The Mighty Ducks: Defiance is a Hard Game
by SpikeytheHedgehog
Summary: The Ducks have a physcopathic new coach who demands all their obediance but Charlie refuses... Will the Ducks manage to overcome the biggest threat they've faced so far? COMPLETE.
1. Introduction

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Mighty Ducks. I suppose I own Coach Reily though – not the same one in D1

A/N: I've gone all the way through this Mighty Ducks fiction place and I didn't find one which incorporated a violent coach – I was heartbroken. I dunno – maybe I'm just a weird freak who likes seeing others suffer at the hands of their elders and then get their own back. 

            I won't stick to all the history of the Ducks as it was ages ago that I saw D1 and D2. I'm sorry I called the coach Reily – though it only has one L – coz this is probably v. confusing with the other coach guy. I just reckon that Reily is quite an evil name and I wanted my coach to have an evil name – apologies if your name is Reily!

            This is my first fanfic so I'd really appreciate any feedback you kind people are willing to give me. I don't mind flames but I'd like it if they were constructive and didn't make me cry (sob, sob).

            "CONWAY! Get your ass over here _now_!" the irate coach bellowed furiously at the lone figure skating on the deserted rink.

            Charlie swore under his breath: he'd figured that it was probably safe to go out on the ice so late: that they'd only be janitors around at this time. It was bloody obvious that he had been very wrong about that assumption. The coach had clearly been waiting for him to show – knowing that keeping Charlie Conway away from the ice was like keeping a duck from the water.

            He slowly turned and moved slowly across the ice, still scarred from that day's practice, steadily avoiding the worst parts, keeping his head down. He slewed to a stop at the end of the ice, unwilling to join his Coach on the floor. There was a moment's silence while Charlie was seemingly totally absorbed in studying the ruts in the ice, sure he could feel Reily's eyes burning a hole through his head. He grimaced to himself, knowing what the coach was waiting for but he refused to comply with the Coach's stupid, degrading rules and looked up, defiantly staring into the Coach's narrowed eyes. There was a pause.

            "Conway," the man's voice was deceptively soft, "you're still on the ice."

            "I noticed, Sir," Charlie's voice held a slight tremour that belied his defiant posture.   

            The Coach chuckled, a sound that Charlie didn't like one bit, "Very good, Conway," he paused, his tone getting slightly harder, "but I'd make sure that you can finish what you're thinking about starting before you do anything hasty."

            Charlie knew exactly what sort of hell his Coach could inflict upon him at Eden Hall, and he knew he certainly wasn't angry enough to allow that yet. This was about pride and stubbornness, and, though Charlie had a great deal of both, logic told him that it was worth sacrificing this small humiliation for the bigger picture.

            Slowly, Charlie lowered himself to one knee, the position took when discussing tactics in a match. From the very beginning, when the Ducks had first met the guy, Coach Reily had made it clear that whenever they were on the ice he expected them to address him from the floor. To begin with they had all laughed at this and had called the man mad: it had soon changed when they had been punished. Swift and sometimes brutal, they had soon learnt that it was easier to go along with Reily, and many of the more placid Ducks were faintly eager to get down on one knee, rather than disappoint the Coach. Soon it was only Charlie, Fulton and Portman that refused to subjugate themselves in such a manner. Then he had grounded the three would-be rebels. Fulton broke first, followed by Portman and, without the Bash Brothers' support, Charlie had eventually given in.

            The Coach smiled down at him, "Smart move, Conway, very smart: you wouldn't want to make me any angrier than I already am with you, would you?"

            Charlie lowered his eyes, "No, Sir." He wasn't wearing his knee pads and the icy water was soaking through his trousers. He just wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. Unfortunately the Coach seemed perfectly willing to take his sweet time before announcing Charlie's punishment for missing afternoon practice that day.

            "Do you have a decent excuse for not being where you were meant to be at 4:30 today?" he asked softly.

            Charlie didn't think that the Coach would be pleased with the truth – that he was visiting his old coach, Bombay: Reily was _very_ protective over his players, especially the team captain. "No, Sir."

            The man's eyes glinted, "Where were you?" he raised one eyebrow.

            "In my room."

            The Coach's eyes darkened and he reached forward and grabbed the front of Charlie's jersey in his fist and dragged him off the slippery ice on to the rough floor, towards him, "Don't lie to me, boy. I sent the cowboy to check your room." He brought Charlie right up close to him, the boy shocked at the man's sudden show of violence, "Where the hell were you?" he shouted, the force directed straight into Charlie's face.

            Charlie didn't say a word; his mind wasn't functioning quickly enough to give him a reasonable excuse. One thing registered though: he knew that the truth of where he had been was probably worse than anything the Coach was speculating about. Reily had ordered all the Ducks to stay away from their former coaches: he said that his was the only voice they would be listening to.

            The Coach let go of his jersey and Charlie fell to the floor with a thud. Reily stared down at the teenager with cold blue eyes, then he smiled to himself. "You're just going to have to make up the time you wasted for me. Laps, Conway, NOW!"

            Charlie glared at the man vehemently, pulled himself to his feet and turned back to the ice. 

The Coach watched him as the boy started skating, noting the apparent ease and fluidity of his movements. Natural talent, the man thought icily, with an attitude to equal, if not better, his skill. That talent was one of the main things that kept the Mighty Ducks winning their games, and the boy's charisma gave the Ducks some sort of inspiration, he had realized, when he had first seen them play. But if Conway kept disobeying him then he could lose the other Ducks' respect. He knew he would have to do something about Captain Duck, something harsh, to put him in his rightful place and to secure the team's loyalty through fear. 

He turned his back on the rink and made his way to the door. He opened it, stepped through, and closed it behind him, bringing out the key which hung on a cord round his neck. He locked the door and moved away silently, knowing full well that no one would be anywhere near the rink for about five hours, when the security guard made his rounds at midnight. The temperature in the building, designed to keep the ice from melting, would certainly cool down Conway's rebellious nature and it was a suitable punishment for the boy going AWOL that afternoon.

Charles Conway would learn to obey his Coach.

So if y'all enjoyed it I'll continue writing – I have a load of ideas in my head: more nasty punishments, Charlie getting angry etc etc.

            Also I apologize to anyone out there who found me over exaggerating Charlie's skill – if I am (I don't know much when it comes to hockey). It's necessary in the storyline and he is definitely my favorite Duck so I don't care – I swear not to make it too over the top, though.

Thanx for reading my fic! 


	2. MIA

A/N. Hiya again. Just want to thank the two people who gave me my first reviews. It's only been a day since it's been up and I have reviews already! – I was shamefully excited. Hope y'all enjoy my next offering. 

All the team, except Guy and Fulton, was assembled in Charlie and Adam's dorm room at 9:45, a quarter of an hour till curfew. Adam was lying on his bed, trying to focus on the sport magazine in his hands; Averman, Julie, Connie and Russ were lounged on the floor, watching TV, whilst Goldberg was eating all their popcorn, absentmindedly looking at his watch as the time passed; Dwayne, Ken and Luis were quietly talking in the corner, discussing that day's practice, Dwayne and Luis doing most of the talking whilst Ken nursed a colourful bruise he sported on his leg; Portman was sitting on Charlie's bed, cleaning his skates aggressively, angrily looking from his skates, to the clock on the wall, to the door, and then back to his skates again.

They all jumped when Guy opened the door. They looked at him hopefully but he shook his head and went and sat on the floor next to Connie. She smiled at him briefly and he squeezed her hand, before they both resumed pretending they were interested in what was on the TV.

It was 9:53 when the door banged open and Fulton strode in.

"Is he back yet?"

The Ducks shook their heads. Averman turned off the TV and Adam put the magazine down on his bedside table; they all looked at each other.

Portman chucked his skates on the floor and stood up, "Where the hell is he?"

"Well he's not out in the grounds, that's for damn sure. Me and Guy covered every centimeter of the campus, TWICE!" Fulton exclaimed, dropping down into the spot his fellow Bash Brother had just vacated.

"It's nearly 10, guys," Julie looked worriedly at the clock.

"He's been missing for nearly three hours now," Luis spoke quietly.

"Shit," Adam swore. "Are we sure we've checked everywhere? The cafeteria? The classrooms?"

The ducks nodded desolately.

"And even if we hadn't, Banksie, they'd all be locked by now. This place is dead by 9:30," Connie intoned.

"Maybe he's just playing a joke?" Goldberg suggested, hopefully.

"If he is then I'd…" Portman smashed his fist into wall.

"Don't be stupid, dude," Fulton said, quietly. "There's no way he'd be mucking around after he was so worried earlier on about missing practice – thinking about Coach's reaction, and all."

The Ducks all looked at each other, knowing that the Bash Brother's words were true. They all knew Charlie. 

"That wasn't like him, no way would he just miss practice for jack all. Where was he this afternoon? Banks?" Luis looked over at fair boy, perched on his bed.

"Hey don't look at me. I asked but he gave me a load of BS about needing time by himself. There's no way he'd just piss off Reily like that: he's not stupid and he doesn't have a death wish!"

There was silence.

"Do you think the Coach…?" Averman left the sentence open, putting words to what they all were thinking.

"He wouldn't," Dwayne drawled in his Texan slang.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he had," Ken stated unhappily.

"Come on, Ducks. Be serious! The Coach can't do anything like that however mad he is," Guy said, uncertainly.

Fulton stepped in, "And Charlie ain't no fluffy duckling. Like he'd allow the Coach to try anything with him."

"Then where the hell is he?" Portman asked again, frustratedly running one hand through his hair.

"It's five past, guys. We gotta go before the teachers come round. We don't want to get into any more trouble with Reily," Julie stood slowly and offered her hand to Connie, helping her up.

Some of the team looked like they were set on staying but Adam agreed, "Come on, guys. We can't do anything but wait around arguing anyway." He stood and opened the door.

"But when Captain Duck shows…" Portman started.

"I'll get the whole damn story out of him," Adam finished. "Swear."

Portman nodded and went to the door, pausing for his roommate, Fulton, to catch up, "You make sure you do, Banksie," he looked at the smaller boy, his posture slightly threatening.

Adam nodded and Portman exited, apparently satisfied.

All the others trailed out the door, muttering dispirited goodbyes to the Center Forward. Soon it was only Adam and Dwayne left. The Texan moved slowly to the door but stopped just before he crossed the threshold.

"Do you think Charlie'll be ok?" he asked softly.

Adam looked at him, "I hope so, Dwayne."

Dwayne nodded and moved out the door, slowly making his way down the corridor to his own dorm, shared with Ken. Adam's eyes followed him for a moment before he quietly shut the door and turned back to his own, empty, room, painfully aware of the absence of his best friend.

            Adam was dozing fitfully when he was awoken by someone clumsily trying to open the dorm door. He sat up silently in the dark and glanced at the illuminated dial of his watch: 12:23 am. He waited, wide-awake now.

            The door opened and Charlie stood hunched in the doorway, silhouetted by the dim light coming from the corridor. He walked unsteadily in, shut the door, dropped his skates by the bottom of his bed and sat down stiffly.

            "Spazway," Adam acknowledged him.

            Charlie jumped: Adam could see his vague outline in the dark, and he heard the bed creak. He expected something, an explanation, an apology, anything, but the other boy was silent.

            Adam could feel his anger beginning to surge inside of him, "You took your damn time. Where were you?" he demanded.

            When his captain still didn't reply he got up and walked the three steps to the other boy's bed, "Are you listening to me, Charlie? We were all really worried about you. Why won't you…?" he reached out, grabbed the boy's shoulder and gasped at the temperature of his skin through the thin jersey he was wearing.

            He got up and moved quickly to the main light switch and flicked it on. He moved in front of Charlie and squinted down at him, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the bright light. He swore quietly under his breath when his eyes took in the state the captain was in: he was shivering violently, his lips an odd shade of purple and his eyes were red rimmed with exhaustion.

            "What happened?" he asked, more softly this time but firmly, not giving Charlie the choice to refuse to answer. He picked up his duvet, still warm from his own body, and wrapped it around the shivering boy, before sitting down on his friend's bed.

            "Coach locked me in," Charlie's reply was quiet but surly, and Adam only just caught it over the chattering of his teeth.

            "Where? You mean – THE ICE RINK?" Adam's reply had too much force in it to be called a whisper.

            Charlie nodded, dully.

            "Why for Christ's sake?"

            "I think I made him mad," Charlie tried a small smile. "I wouldn't tell him why I'd missed practice."

            Adam looked at him, disbelief written across his shocked features. They sat there like that for a few moments before Adam swallowed and broke the heavy silence.

            "Where were you today? And don't give me the BS you tried earlier coz I know you and I know when you're telling me the truth."

            Charlie sighed unhappily and looked down at his lap, gathering the duvet more firmly around his freezing cold body, "I was meeting Bombay. I figured he might be able to give me some advice."

            "You saw him without telling us? We'd have all gone with you! Why didn't you tell me?" Adam was annoyed. Very.

            "Can you blame me?" Charlie whispered furiously, his emotion bringing a little colour back to his face. "Look what Reily did to me for not showing up for practice! Can you imagine what he would have done if we had all played hooky?" He was silent for a moment and when he turned back to Adam his voice was more calm, "I figured that he might believe some lame-assed excuse if it was only me who went. No way would he believe that the whole team missed practice to go for a walk or something." He paused again, "I'm sorry, I probably should've told you where I was going."

            Adam looked at him and immediately regretted his anger, "You had your reasons and they're decent, Charlie." He got up from his seat and moved to the bathroom, grabbed a towel and brought it back to his shivering captain. "You gotta get warm. I don't know what the Coach was thinking: you could've caught pneumonia. Go have a hot shower before you turn into an ice cube."

            Charlie smiled at him through clenched teeth, trying to repress his chattering teeth. Adam got up again and gave his friend space to strip off his cold things, his back to him as he changed.

            As he stood there admiring the beige wallpaper a thought crossed his mind, "Hey, Spazway?" Charlie grunted, "Did the Coach guess where you had gone?"

            Charlie wrapped the large towel around himself, grateful for its warmth, "I dunno," he said glumly, "but I'm screwed if he didn't and he finds out coz that means that this was just a punishment for bunking the practice. I'm decent," he muttered to Banks before moving into the bathroom and starting the shower. He waited for the water to run hot, testing the deluge with his hand.

            "What did Bombay say?"

            "He said if Reily was as bad as I said he was then it was undoubtable that he had a record of some kind. He promised to try and find out as much as he could about the guy to give us something solid to go to the Dean with. He's gonna contact me in a month or so."

            Adam nodded as his friend closed the bathroom door, wondering bitterly if Bombay could reach Charlie in hospital, as that was where it looked Reily was going to be sending him.

            He had to talk to the Ducks. They had won with the odds against them before but always as a team. There was no way that he was going to let Captain Duck take on their Coach by himself, as he knew he would try. The Ducks try together, fly together and die together – and they always would.

Longer than the first but hopefully it didn't drag. I probably won't be as speedy updating nxt time coz I did this when I got home from skool and still haven't done my homework at 11. Ah well I'll live – this is more exciting. 

If you liked my story plz review so I can get all happy again – unless they're flames (plz don't be too harsh!).

Love y'all.


	3. Controlled

A/N     Hello to all you luverly people out there who gave me such nice reviews! They were great and they made me want to continue writing – they're such incentive! I get a nice warm bubbly feeling just thinking about them!

            And I'm sorry to Nellie2 but I couldn't possibly have all the Ducks attacking Reily coz that would make my story very short in deed if the Coach died prematurely  – and I intend to make it a nice large one (hopefully not tedious) for all you caring people who reviewed. 

            This is one of those chapters which has to be written even though it's torturing me – you'll see what I mean…

"Hey, Dude," Portman and Fulton came up from behind Charlie, Fulton slapping the boy on his back, warmly, and Portman leaning against the locker next to the Captain's, looking angry.

            "Hey, guys," Charlie took out the folder he needed for the next lesson and shut the locker with a loud clang. "I better get going: maths test next lesson and I haven't even looked at the pages it's on," he turned to move away but Portman stuck out a large arm and held him back.

            "So blag it, it's only maths and we have more important things to talk about," Portman's voice was dark.

            Charlie sighed, "I thought Banksie had told you guys what had happened before I was even up."

            "We know what Reily did to you, Spazway," Fulton said softly, "and we wanted to know what you were going to do about it. Check that you weren't planning anything stupid."

            "Why don't you guys just get off my back about it? First Adam, then Julie and Connie, then Guy and now the Bash Brothers – I'm sick of it. Reily's my problem and no one else's."

            Portman sneered at him, "Is that really what you think? Have you not been to any practices recently, Conway? So, yeah, he rags at you the most but no way can you say that he's only _your _problem. Most of the guys are terrified of him and we all hate his teaching methods. Kneeling before him…" he stopped, trying to get his pent up anger under control.

            Fulton looked earnestly at Charlie, "And even if this was just between the Coach and you, do you really expect us to sit back and watch whilst he pulls stunts on you like last night's? He could've killed you for Christ's sake!"

            Charlie looked at them both and almost managed a grin, "What would my mom do without the Ducks? I don't think she'd be able to cope if she had to mother me all by herself."

            Portman relaxed, smiled, and casually punched Charlie lightly in the gut, "That's for even thinking I had paternal instincts!"

            His captain looked at him innocently, "I didn't say paternal, I said _maternal_." Portman pulled him into a headlock. "Ok, ok, I'm sorry," Charlie elbowed the larger Duck in the ribs, "I can't breathe, Portman!" The Bash brother released him, reluctantly.

            "So what you gonna do about Reily?" Fulton asked.

            Charlie's grin vanished, "I dunno. I could go to the Dean, I suppose."

            "So why don't you?" Charlie turned around to find the rest of the team staring back at him. He had no idea how they had managed to sneak up on him so silently – they had Goldberg with them. He stood, shocked, for a moment.

            "You're all meant to be in lessons!"

            "So are you," Averman pointed out dryly.

            "What is this?" Charlie asked, frustrated, "an inquisition? You guys all planned this, didn't you?"

            "Stop avoiding the question, Spazway," Guy said. He quirked an eyebrow, "Why aren't you at the Dean's office right now?"

            Charlie sighed, resignedly, "I hate Coach Reily and all but I'd still feel like a total creep ratting him out. I just don't think I can do it!"

            "I can't believe you just said that, Charlie," Julie face was a mask of disbelief. "You know what shutting someone up in a freezing cold room for five hours is called?" –

            Adam butted in, "Sadism. Our Coach is a regular sadist, Charlie. You gotta admit that locking someone up in the equivalent of a freezer is not something a normal guy would do – even if he was a hockey coach!"

            "Look, Dude, think of it like this," Portman threw an arm around Charlie's shoulders, "either you dig the dirt to the Dean or I'll kill the SOB. No one messes with the Ducks whilst I'm around!"  

            "I don't have a choice, do I?" Charlie asked, unhappily.

            The Ducks shook their heads.

            "And we're all gonna come with ya," Dwayne drawled.

            "Absolutely not!" Charlie was adamant. "I'd prefer to do this by myself."

            "Guys, this is not the most subtle of ways we could think of for complaining about the Coach. The thirteen of us aren't even all gonna be able to fit into the Dean's study," Charlie complained, futilely, for the fifth time.

            Russ chuckled, "We had to come with you, Captain: you might have decided that you preferred being a frozen chicken to a free Duck."

            "Yeah and if you've got to make a statement, you might as well make it a big one!" Connie added.

            Charlie shook his head despairingly as he led the way into the Dean's office and up to his secretary's desk.

            "I've come to see the Dean," Charlie announced, unenthusiastically.

            The brunette looked at him, then turned her gaze to the twelve other ducks loitering in the doorway. Apparently unfazed, she asked, "Name?"

            "Charlie Conway."

            "Ah yes, he's been expecting you." Charlie looked at her, confused but the secretary didn't bother to explain. She leant forward to the intercom on her desk and pressed the small green button, "Charlie Conway and…" she paused, "friends to see you, Sir."

            A tinny voice answered back, "Send them in."

            She nodded towards the door and Charlie and the rest of the Ducks moved towards it. Charlie stuck out his hand and grasped the cold doorknob, turned it, and entered the large, airy office of Eden Hall Academy's Dean.

            The slight man looked up from his mahogany desk and beckoned him in. Charlie complied and the rest of the Ducks followed suit. The man frowned slightly.

            "I'm afraid that it would be best if the rest of your team stayed outside, Mr Conway." He turned to the others, "There is a perfectly adequate waiting facility outside in the main foyer. This shouldn't take too long."

            The Ducks looked crestfallen and a bit angry at their treatment, but none of them dared to argue with the grey haired man. They sidled out the door, one by one, Luis shutting the door quietly behind him, until the room was a Duck-free zone discounting Charlie. Charlie stood, uncomfortably, in the center of the room as the Dean studied him closely with his dark eyes.

            He signalled to the chair opposite him, "Sit."

            Charlie sat.

            "Now, what did you want to talk to me about, young man, which was so important that I fear you are missing maths at this very moment to bring it to my attention."

            Charlie swallowed, "I've come to complain about Coach Reily, Sir."

            "Oh?" The man's eyes were fixed on Charlie's face and the Duck squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, unwilling to bring his gaze to meet the Dean's.

            "Last night, Sir, he locked me in the ice rink house for five hours."

            "Purposefully?"

            "Yes, Sir. He knew I was in there as he had just had a conversation with me. He ordered me to do laps and he left. I skated until I couldn't feel my feet and then I got off the ice to look for him," he swallowed painfully. "I couldn't find him and it was getting late so I decided to leave. I went to the door and found it was locked. I was locked in there till after midnight when the security guard came to check on the rink."

            There was a pause, a very long pause. Charlie looked up at the man to find he was smiling a stretched, unpleasant sort of grimace. He looked at him, puzzled, wondering what could have brought the expression to a generally benevolent man's face.

            "Interesting, Conway. It's unfortunate for you that John stopped by to explain exactly what happened this morning."

            John? Who was John? The boy was confused. John, John, John… the name sounded so… Charlie looked at the Dean in astonishment as comprehension flickered through his mind. John Reily! 

He shifted nervously in his seat. The Dean being on first name terms with Reily was a bad sign, Charlie knew, and the man obviously believed "John" a hell of sight more than he believed Charlie Conway, from the expression on the Dean's face. It looked like Charlie had just made the situation even worse for himself.

            The Dean looked at him, "I am shocked at your nerve, Charles Conway. John told me that he apologized to you profusely for his grievous mistake, a mistake which only occurred because you missed hockey practice in the first place, may I add, but that you would have none of it."

            Charlie opened his mouth to protest but the Dean raised a hand, his eyes blazing, to silence him, "Do not interrupt me, boy! Your Coach then told me that he feared you might come here to make a complaint about him, a perfectly reasonable assumption, and he asked me to tell you that, even though you skipped practice yesterday, he would allow you to take the day off to help you recover from what he called "your ordeal".

            "I thought that he was being overly generous to you and I told him so. You are, after all, on a scholarship here to learn hockey but you, the captain of the JV hockey team, seem unwilling to cooperate. But, against my better judgment, I humored him and granted his wish that you may miss hockey practice today.

            "And now you come in and have the insolence to grossly exaggerate the story and blame it entirely on John Reily. I am appalled at your behavior, Conway, and so I will change my verdict. You will have a detention for missing practice yesterday and you will have a detention for your impudence today. You will also go and apologize to your Coach, _and_ if he asks what you are doing at practice, when he told me you could skip it, you will tell him it was because you lied about him to my very face. 

            "I am disappointed in you, Charles Conway. Dismissed."

            The man waved his hand sharply to the door. Charlie stood, shock and anger reverberating through him, both fighting for dominance in his reactions. Anger won, as it will almost always do, and he turned abruptly and stalked out the door, slamming it behind him as he left. 

The secretary gave him a look of disdain as he swiftly crossed the foyer and strode right past his worried teammates. A hand rested heavily on his shoulder for a moment but he brushed it off angrily, ignoring the shouts of concern from his friends as they hurried after him.

There was no way that he would ever apologize to Reily for missing the practice. And he would _never_ humiliate himself by telling the Coach that he had lied when they both knew he had not. No way – they couldn't make him. 

He bit back angry, frustrated, despairing tears because he knew he was lying to himself. He knew that between the two of them, the Dean and the Coach, they could make him do whatever they damn well pleased. And he had no doubts that Reily would do so, cruelly.

I know I said that I wouldn't probably update for a while but I'm kinda hooked to getting home from skool, turning on the email and getting loads of compliments for my stories – it's great! The thrills of being an author.

I know that this chapter had no Coach Reily in it and so, consequently, no sadism or refrigeration but I promise you that I know exactly what I'm writing in the next chapter and it is going to be very good – that is if you like evil coaches devising ways to get the Bash Brothers… Oh I won't say – I'll leave you in suspense.

Not for too long though, coz I'll find it hard preventing myself from writing this upcoming chapter.

Toodle Pips. 


	4. Duck against Duck

A/N     Heya to all you guys out there. Sorry this took so long but I still have a load of coursework to do (God I hate school). Plz review if you enjoy this – I thought that this was one of my more original ideas yet – what d'y'all think? 

"This sucks!"

The Ducks didn't respond.

Averman looked a little dejected. He repeated his statement, louder, "This _really_ sucks!"

Russ didn't turn around, "We heard you the first time, Averman." He continued walking.

The hockey team was making their way across the campus, aiming for the large building which housed the ice rink. No one looked happy at the thought of two hours worth of gruelling practice. Reily always worked them hard but today would be far worse: they had no doubt that he had heard of their efforts to get rid of him.

"Is Charlie gonna come?" Julie asked, quietly.

There was silence. All the Ducks knew the significance of Charlie's absence from the group.   

            "Would you if you were him?" Luis asked.

            Julie hesitated, "I don't know," she admitted finally. "Being made to apologize…" she trailed off.

            "I would."

            The team looked at Adam, shocked.

            "What the hell did you mean by that, Banks?" Portman took the offensive.

            "What I said. To me, hockey is well worth the humiliation. But I'm not Charlie," he paused. "I reckon he will turn up though."

Fulton nodded in agreement, "If he doesn't come for the hockey, he'll come for the team."

"I don't know, man," Guy looked unsure. "He can be damn stubborn when he wants to be."

"And _that's_ the understatement of the century," Goldberg muttered to himself.

The team crossed the lawn, vaguely aware of other preppies around them, and got to the icehouse. Ken opened the door but didn't step through into the dimly lit interior.

"We'll stick together in there, right?" he asked, nervously. "I don't think I could face the coach by myself, not like Charlie," he admitted.

Adam threw an arm around his shoulder and propelled him inside, "Don't worry, Kenny. The Ducks fly together, and there isn't anything that's going to change that – not even our favourite sadist."

Portman chuckled, "Just let him try." 

The Ducks had just finished changing when Charlie Conway banged open the door to the boy's changing rooms and moodily dumped his skates on the bench. Guy looked at him, surprised but happy.

"Hey, man. We didn't think you'd show. Where've you been?"

Charlie pulled open his locker a little too enthusiastically and the clang echoed around the room. He grimaced and pulled his hockey gear out, "Nowhere," he replied shortly.

The Ducks looked at each other and then at the captain. There was silence.

"We're gonna be late," Dwayne had missed the magnitude of the moment completely. He picked up his skates and moved to the door, "You guys?" he asked, puzzled, when no one made a move to join him.

"Coming, Dwayne. The girls are gonna to be out there by now and sure as hell they're not going to be too pleased with us if we leave them alone with Reily," Russ said, moving to join the Texan. Luis nodded in agreement and opened the door, the three of them making their way onto the ice. 

Averman looked at Charlie, apologetically, "I've got to go as well. I don't want him getting mad at me again," he shuddered, "it was bad enough last time. Coming Kenny?"

Ken looked at him agitatedly and nodded, nervously making his way across the room, hockey stick held out in front of him like a shield. They both exited.

Fulton looked across at Portman, "Hey, dude, we can't just leave them out there: they're all so small."

Portman nodded in agreement and grabbed Goldberg's arm, "Come on," he started dragging the shorter boy towards the door, "we could use the extra pounds behind our muscle."

Goldberg shrieked in protest about needing the loo but was dragged towards the door unheedingly by the relentless Bash Brother.

Fulton smothered a grin and looked at Charlie, catching the boy's eye as he strapped on his left kneepad, "Good luck out there, man. Be cool."

Charlie nodded, mutely, and Fulton returned the gesture before catching up to Portman, handing him his hockey stick, and helping him drag the hapless Goldberg to the rink.

Guy and Adam were the only two Ducks left now with their Captain.

"Charlie," Adam started.

Charlie grunted at him, pulling off his normal sock, without looking up at his roommate.

Adam sighed. He moved towards his seated friend and stood over him, his extra two inches allowing him to tower over his Captain.

"Listen to me, Charlie!"

Charlie looked up at him, surprised by Adam's tone.

"What is it, Banksie?" he asked, exasperated.

"Don't do anything stupid out there! You hear? We don't want you getting into any more trouble," Adam's voice was low but forceful.

Charlie looked down.

"Just stay out of his way," Guy suggested, brightly, "he won't do anything if he's not provoked."

Adam nodded.

Charlie looked at them, disbelief etched on his features, "What? So you're saying that going to the Dean's office and trying to get him sacked _isn't_ provoking him?" He glanced up at the clock, "And I'm going to be five minutes late for practice, even _if_ you leave me alone right now," he picked up a thick sock and started pulling it on. "Don't try and tell me that this lesson isn't going to be hell for all of us, because it is. Maybe you could save the team a little from his wrath by turning up on time to practice, instead of berating someone _already_ way up on his list of "Who's Pissed Me Off Today". And if you want to do that I'd suggest moving your asses quickly – it's 28 minutes past and you've got to put on your skates."

Adam and Guy looked at each other, lost for words. They knew Charlie was right but they didn't want to abandon him to the Coach's fury. Guy glanced nervously at the clock.

"Go, damn you! You think you're helping, standing there? I've gotta get changed," Charlie had finally completed the swap of socks and pulled his shirt over his head.

Adam nodded and they both made their way dispiritedly to the door, walked through it and down to the ice rink, shutting it behind them.

Charlie ran his hand through his curly brown hair, agitatedly. He picked up his Duck's jersey, shoved it on with little ceremony, and then focused on getting all the rest of his padding on, unsuccessfully trying to ignore the sharp blasts of the whistle as his Coach called the rest of his team to him.

He hurriedly picked up his hockey stick and skates and walked quickly to the door. He paused, his hand on the handle. He took a deep breath and told himself that apologizing to Reily wasn't all that big a deal, exactly what he had been repeating to himself all afternoon. With a mental shove, he forced his hand to obey his brain and opened the door, quickly making his way down to the ice.

He sat on the end of one of the benches and pulled his skates on. He got up and, shakily, made his way onto the fresh ice. Once on the frozen water, his grace returned and he easily dodged all his team mates as they practiced passing the puck quickly and accurately to each other, making his way to the far corner where Reily was casually leaning against the side, watching the play.

He slewed to a halt in front of his Coach. The man looked at him, not even bothering to feign surprise at the show of the player, who he had said could skip hockey.

There was a silence. Charlie was unwilling to speak first and nervously ran his tongue over his chapped lower lip.

"Yes, Conway?" the Coach's voice was disturbingly pleasant.

"I'm here, Sir," Charlie murmured rather pathetically he thought, grudgingly sliding down to one knee under the Coach's stare.

"I noticed," the Coach said, dryly. "But why, Conway? I thought I told the Dean that you didn't have to come to practice today."

"You did, Sir," Charlie fixed his eyes to a dark scuffmark on the wall behind Reily.

            "Well?" his low voice held a faint trace of humour and Charlie knew that the man was enjoying every single moment of his fake bemusement.

            "The Dean told me to apologize to you," Charlie fought to keep the bitterness he felt out of his voice, knowing that the Coach would find it even more gratifying if he showed his emotions.

            "Why, Conway?"

            Charlie paused and, keeping his voice steady, he replied, "Because I lied to him about you, Sir."

            "Really?" Reily raised one eyebrow. "What about?"

            "He wouldn't believe me when I told him that you locked me in here overnight, _Sir_," his tone conveyed exactly what he felt about the Dean and the ensuing "Sir" was faintly mocking.

            The Coach was silent and Charlie immediately feared that he had gone too far. He wondered, miserably, what his punishment was going to be.

            "You'll see me after practice, Conway," Reily's voice was dark. Charlie nodded, cursing himself for insulting the Coach so obviously.

            The man raised the black whistle hung around his neck to his lips and blew a high, loud blast. "Ducks, to me!" he yelled in the ensuing silence.

            All the Ducks hurriedly skated over to their Coach, dropping to their knees beside Charlie. The Coach surveyed them all for a moment, his gaze lingering on Fulton and Portman. He smiled and all the team shuddered inwardly at what the expression suggested.

            "I am moderately happy with the change I have witnessed in these last short weeks. Before I came to Eden Hall, you were all slovenly and undisciplined. I have changed that, as is obvious to see," he gestured towards their kneeling figures. Charlie, Portman and Fulton stared at him through narrowed slits, all three ashamed at the control the man had over them.

The Coach continued, "But what is still lacking is control over the game play. The Ducks winning the league shows that your unruly tactics work to a point, but, have no doubts, your opponents will find them no obstacle this year, as they will all be trained to know _exactly_ how to combat them."   

He smiled again, "This year I will take your skills and improve them by adding practiced strategies into your normal play." He paused, "I feel that this week will be a good time to start building on the enforcers' roles in the game. Stand up Reed and Portman and follow me. You others follow but I want five metres between you and us."

He moved around the rest of the team and skated out to the centre. The others followed, uncertainly. Portman and Fulton looked at each other, anger showing on their faces: they had never been _shown_ how to enforce – it had just come naturally.

The team fanned out, watching the Coach as the Bash Brothers warily made their way towards him.

"Now," the Coach looked at them all, "I used to be a enforcer myself when I was playing in the league – "

"Doesn't surprise me one little bit," Averman murmured to himself, careful not to allow the Coach to hear.

"– and so I know a few things about tactics. For example, if I do this," he moved towards Portman, grabbed him by the shoulder and threw him backwards over his knee, "my player is totally unarmed."

Portman winced in pain from the floor and got up, annoyed at the Coach's ability to take him down so easily.

"Or maybe if I try this one it has much the same effect," he skated towards a wary Fulton and slammed into him at an odd angle, leaving the large boy lying on the ice, holding his chest and stomach and groaning in pain.

"That one is one of my personal favourites," he confided to the shocked group of smaller Ducks watching.

Portman skated to Fulton, knelt down and offered his hand. The winded boy winced as he took it and was pulled his feet.

The Coach smiled at the Bash Brothers, "Now then you two, I want you to practice those moves."

The Bash Brothers looked at him as if he was mad. Portman raised his eyebrows and stated simply, "On who?"

The Coach looked at him venomously, "What, Portman?"

"I was wondering, who did you want us to practice on, Sir. We don't normally try out our moves until a game."

The Coach smiled, "I know and that is probably why your game is so appalling." Reily chuckled, "As for your question, I want you to practice on your team. How else do you expect to perfect the actions?"

The team looked shocked at the news.

"You're mad!" Charlie exclaimed, unable to control his mouth after what he had just heard.

"Really, Conway?" the man's tone was icy. "Maybe to prove my sanity I will make you the first volunteer. You _are_ Captain, after all. Step forward, Conway. Reed, try the move I made on Portman."

Fulton looked at the Coach for a second but saw the resolution in his eyes. He moved towards his Captain and looked at him, unsure of what to do. Charlie nodded to him, signalling he was ok with it. Fulton held his shoulder and, almost gently, threw him backwards over his knee.

The Coach looked at him, angrily, "Reed, that was awful." He looked slyly at Portman, "I'll show you it again, just to make sure you get it right."

He moved swiftly towards the Bash Brother and threw him over his knee, nowhere near as gentle as Fulton had been on Charlie. Portman lay on the ice in pain for a few moments before shakily getting back on his feet.

Fulton threw the Coach a nasty look.

"Now then, Reed, you'll try that manoeuvre again on Conway but this time you better make it worth my while. Otherwise I'll have to show it to you again, and that could be painful for Portman here."

Adam looked at the man, aghast. He was blackmailing the Bash Brothers to hurt their own team. If they didn't comply, he would hurt _them_!

Fulton moved slowly towards Conway once more, his eyes apologetic. Once again, his Captain nodded his consent and the Bash Brother seized him and threw him like their Coach had told him. Charlie landed heavily on the ice and swore quietly to himself: the padding couldn't take all the pain away from a fall like that.

Slowly he got up and skated back to where he had just been standing, his breath catching in his throat.

The Coach ordered Portman to try the action he had hurt Fulton with. Portman stood there, arms crossed, "And if I say no?" he asked bluntly, "I don't want to hurt my team and I don't want you to hurt my Bro. What if I leave right now? What would you do about it? Whatever it is, it can't be worse than this." He jabbed his hand in the direction of Charlie and Fulton.

The Coach looked at him steadily, "If you said no, Portman, I would be forced to find a new enforcer." He looked around at the speechless Ducks, "Maybe Averman or Wu would be up to the challenge. They're quite little but if they stood up to the first couple of times, I'm sure they'd get through without too serious an injury."

Portman swore. He either continued hurting his team himself or he allowed the Coach to do it more viciously to the smallest guys. He had no choice, and both Reily and him knew it.

He nodded and moved slowly towards Guy, the next "volunteer".

Charlie watched silently as the practice proceeded. He knew now how the Coach was punishing them for trying to get him thrown out of Eden Hall. He winced as Averman hit the ice, his small body taking the fall harsher than he himself had. He felt hatred coursing through his veins and he hoped fervently that Bombay would contact him soon.

"That's enough of those two manoeuvres for now, I think." The Bash Brothers looked up at the man, silently thankful for his change in heart. Charlie looked at his Coach and knew better: a smile was playing at his lips.

"I want to show you a different attack," the Bash Brothers looked murderously at their Coach for intentionally raising their hopes. "But this time I want you both to see it. It's the most vicious engagement I know and I want you both to know it."

Charlie felt a needle of fear pierce him for he knew where this was leading. The Coach flickered his eyes onto him and smiled maliciously, and Charlie knew he would regret ever having met the Coach in the next few seconds.

"Ah, yes, Conway," Reily said softly, "you're going to be my next volunteer," and he beckoned to Charlie to join him.

A/N     Hoped you enjoyed! Review please – I'm more likely to write another chapter sooner (ok, that was a bad attempt at bribery). More action coming soon. If any hockey buff is feeling particularly nice it would be great to get a list of "proper" hockey words to get my story sounding professional. For example – what is that whole kneeling thing actually called?!? I can't just keep calling it kneeling thing, can I? I no nothing about hockey so anything would be greatly appreciated!

Sophie xxx  


	5. Pain

A/N     Heya!! It feels like it's been ages since I last updated though it was only last week! I was quite depressed when I saw my story had gone onto the second page and so I decided to update again. 

Thanx to all my reviewers. I love it when you guys review more than once – it's great to know that people are following my story! And if you haven't reviewed yet, it really doesn't take that much effort to click on the little button and send a message which gives me so much happiness you wouldn't believe *breathe* Sophie *breathe*. Anyway, you might find there is slightly more to flame in this chapter coz it focuses a lot on moves in hockey and I know diddly-squit on the subject. If you do flame plz make it constructive!!!  

            This is more a continuation of the last chapter as I kinda left that one hanging (bows my head in shame). It was bad of me but I wanted to sleep! Hope y'all understand! Enjoy!

There was a foreboding silence, broken only by the scrape of Charlie's skates on the ice as he moved cautiously towards his Coach. Fear coursed through his veins and his breath came in short, sharp bursts as he slewed to a stop, just out of Reily's reach.

            The Coach smiled, maliciously, "Now, Conway, don't be scared. You need to come a little closer for this to work properly."

            The muscles in Charlie's jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth against his mouth guard, "I'm _not scared."_

            "Really?" the Coach raised an eyebrow, "You could have fooled me. However, as it is, Conway, you have no reason to be afraid: I'll cause no permanent damage. It would be foolish, would it not, to cripple the Team's Captain?" he chuckled unpleasantly to himself.

            None of the Ducks shared his joke. Charlie looked up at him, eyes blazing.

            The Coach quickly sobered when he realised that Charlie hadn't moved. He lowered his voice, "Move, Conway, _now_," he paused, eyes dark. "You don't want to make me come to you."

            Charlie swallowed and moved a foot nearer to the man. Reily smiled, "Good boy. Now, turn around."

            Charlie hesitated, unwilling to show his back to the Coach, leaving him prone and vulnerable to attack, but he complied, reluctantly. He slowly moved his feet, effortlessly and gracefully, turning around to face the Bash Brothers' intense, angry stares.

            "Now, Portman and Reed watch closely. You wouldn't want me to have to do this to your Captain again."

Fulton and Portman were directly in front of him, in best view of the proceedings, Charlie presumed, dispiritedly. Portman raised his eyebrows and Fulton tilted his head to one side, questioningly. The unvoiced query was as clear as day. The Bash Brothers wanted their Captain's permission to rebel: they didn't like taking orders and they sure as hell didn't like watching their Coach hurt their friend. Charlie paused, then, angry with himself for even considering the silent question, jerked his head negatively. He didn't want a full Duck rebellion on his hands, which would, he was sure, inevitably end with the team being kicked out of Eden Hall. Even if _he_ was unsure about his position with hockey, he knew that the others still wanted to play the sport, Banksie especially. He would not be the one to destroy their hopes of future careers.

The blow, when it came, was unexpected and it smashed through Charlie's defences to his very core. His feet were ripped from under his as a strong arm swung against the left side of his neck and he was flipped over the other arm, positioned just below his right hip. He hit the ice with a soft thud, the reverberations of the impact shooting through his mind and he could do nothing but gasp, desperately trying to bring air into his crushed lungs.

He lay like that, his head resting on the ice, water soaking through his kit, for what felt like an eternity, unmoving. He was dimly aware of two figures kneeling behind him, and he feebly attempted to rise, only to be pushed down again, gently but firmly.

"He shouldn't get up," a voice, Julie's, said agitatedly, "he could be seriously hurt."

"Should we call an ambulance?" Adam asked softly, suppressed panic making his voice sound odd, "I don't know much when it comes to stuff like this."

"Gaffney and Banks, get away from him. He'll become his usual frisky self all too soon," a deep voice growled above him.

            Both of the figures behind him froze. The hand on Charlie's shoulder was hastily retracted and one of the figures stood up.

            "Don't you dare, Banks," he heard Portman's growl even from his position on the floor _and with his muddled head.   _

There was a silence. Julie didn't move away from her prone team mate.

"Gaffney, I'm warning you," Charlie recognised the voice this time as that of his Coach.

"You could have killed him with that move." Like the other figure, Julie got up but, instead of moving away, she stood protectively over Charlie's body.

"You are being over dramatic, girl," Reily spat, contemptuously, "or do you just underestimate Conway's strength? I know what I am doing, _never_ forget that."

"But…"

Realisation dawned in Charlie's hurting head as he realised that the two voices were discussing him. His mind slowly began to function normally and he realised that if he wanted Julie the Cat to stay on the team he had to intervene, and quickly. He rolled onto his stomach and painfully raised himself up with his arms.

"Julie, _shut up," he hissed through gritted teeth._

He hoped that she wouldn't take the command too personally but he knew it could be the only way to stop the Cat from telling the Coach exactly what she thought of him.

Julie looked down at him, her eyes confused and filled with hurt.  

Charlie smiled weakly and offered her his hand. The girl looked at him critically, smiled stiffly, and took it, helping him get back onto his very unstable feet. 

He glanced around at the Ducks: Russ, Guy and Luis were all glaring daggers at the Coach; Goldberg was looking outraged whilst Dwayne, standing next to him, was looking angry, though bemused at the same time; Connie was looking worriedly between the Coach and her only other fellow female on the team; Averman and Kenny were looking positively green and the Bash Brothers…

Charlie shook his head and refocused on the two biggest Ducks. Fulton had a hand on Portman's shoulder and, if his white knuckles were anything to go by, was holding on to the other boy extremely tightly. Portman was looking murderously at Adam who stood outside the group, his fists clenched.

Charlie looked at them worriedly, hoping faithfully that Fulton could stop Portman doing anything "rash". He had no idea what the Bash Brother's problem was with Banksie but he was grateful that Portman wasn't trying to kill the _Coach_ this time: though Portman was undeniably strong, Charlie feared that the Coach was a lot stronger.

He turned his head painfully to look at the Coach, fear and hatred a burning beacon in his eyes. The Coach smiled and nodded almost imperceptibly. Anger shot through Charlie, though it wasn't anywhere near its usual potency. He was too weak and drained, and, rather inconsiderately, he mused, his fear for the man in front of him was beginning to affect his legs.

He trembled, almost lost his balance but Julie was still clutching him firmly and the small, plucky goalkeeper refused to let go. He was considerably grateful to the Cat for saving him his last dignity.

"Go shower and change, Conway," Reily said quietly to the pale and shaking boy.

Charlie nodded, praying fervently that his gratitude to the vile man wasn't visible on his face. He touched Julie's hand with his and she, reluctantly, let go. Unsteadily he made his way across the ice, eyes fixed on his goal: the changing room door.

"Oh and Conway," Charlie froze. The voice, dark and humourless came from behind him, "Wait for me in my office once you're done. After I've finished with the rest of these water fowl, we need to discuss the punishment you will receive for your cheek earlier on."

Behind him he heard a loud exclamation and the sounds of a scuffle: now it was _Portman's turn to hold __Fulton back from committing murder._

A/N     Next Chappie will probably be up same time next week! I won't say the "R" word again but if you liked it you know what you have to do (or if you hated it, of course)!  

I decided to put all my reviewing thanks down here so in case you don't want to read it you don't have to – I know it bugs me to go through all the chat before getting to the actual story!

Thanks to IceCube for the info – d'you reckon I managed to do the whole enforcer's moves ok here? I don't know anything about this so they might be totally illegal for all I know. From what I've seen in the films, the Bash Bros just seem to crash into people a lot!

Also – just a personal question – how many people are there in the US called Chelsea? There seems to be an abundance of the name on ff.net!!! Thanks to all the respective Chelseas who have reviewed – especially …RockandRoll for the total spontaneity fix – my head went totally fuzzy just from reading your messages!

And thank you to Nellie2 and xomegsxo for continually reviewing my story – gives me a lovely buzz – plz keep it up!!

Sophie

xxx


	6. Cruel Understandings

A/N     Finally! An Update! I've felt sooooo guilty over the last week or so for not keeping my promise made in the last chapter's A/N. The truth is, and I'm kinda ashamed to admit this, that I have writer's block already! It's appalling! I reckon it's got something to do with the pressure of having so many luverly people out there wanting me to update – I can now sympathise with J.K. Rowling! 

            But, in a bit of a strange twist, it was re-reading my reviews that made me write this tonight! Not only did I feel extremely guilty at leaving WeBuiltThisCityOnRockAndRoll as a shapeless blob but it was all of your great encouragement and pleas to do more that made me handcuff myself to my computer to make me finish this chapter!

            It's finally here so enjoy!!!

PS Thanks and stuff are down the bottom as before…

Charlie was slumped in the brown plastic chair next to the locked door of Reily's office when the man himself, fresh and unhurried, walked around the bend in the corridor.

            Charlie immediately, and subconsciously, stiffened, and straightened in the low chair, wincing once from the subsiding pain in his back and left leg, as he watched the blond man make his way towards him.    

            Reily ignored him, took out a key and opened the office door wide.

            "In," he commanded to the boy, gesturing into the darkness of the small room.

            Charlie wanted to refuse, wanted to tell the man _exactly_ where he could shove it, but as soon as the Coach's cold blue eyes met his he sighed angrily and stood, admitting defeat. Cautiously he made his way into the dark room, his wet hair making him shiver in the chill air, and stood, waiting for his Coach to follow him. Two conflicting fears were fighting for dominance in his tired mind: he wasn't sure whether he should be more scared of Reily actually being in the room with him, or the idea of the man locking him in again – last night was still fresh in his mind.

            A bright light flickered on and Charlie stood blinking in the glare, his eyes accustomed to the dimness of the corridor. Light footsteps stepped across the threshold of the room and an unpleasant feeling settled in the bottom of his ribcage when the door shut behind him, leaving him to face Reily on his own.

            The tall man moved to the desk which took up most of the room in the small office. He pulled out his chair and settled down into it, all the time his eyes fixed on Charlie's face. Charlie swallowed and looked down, keeping his eyes glued on the old, worn trainers he had refused to allow his mom to chuck out.

            There was a silence, then – 

            "I'm not like your other coaches, am I, Conway?"

            Charlie's head jerked up in surprise at the casual question. 

            He grimaced wryly, "Not exactly."

"Did you know I talked to them both before I took over the team? They wanted to know what I was like, whether _I_ was good enough for _you_. They wanted to make sure I could _handle_ the Ducks." His voice was scathing, and Charlie hated the man for feeling such contempt for his two former coaches. 

"I don't think I've had any problems there, do you, Conway?" Reily's icy blue eyes met his.

Charlie was defiantly silent, his teeth gritted. He lowered his eyes once more.

"Conway?" The Coach's voice was hard; he wasn't satisfied with the silence that greeted his question. 

"No," Charlie muttered ungraciously. 

"No, what?"

"No, _Sir_." 

            Charlie could feel Reily's icy glare on him.

"That's your problem, Conway, you're too damn stubborn to see what's best for you." 

Charlie was stubbornly silent.

The Coach continued, "I wondered what the famous Captain Duck would be like after hearing so much from Orion and Bombay."

Charlie glanced up from the floor, a glimmer of fear in his eyes. He wasn't comfortable knowing that his two former coaches had discussed _him_ with the man he hated so much. Reily smiled, satisfied at the reaction.  

"Oh yes, they _both_ warned me about you, Conway; they told me all about your confrontational attitude."

Charlie shook his head, refusing to believe his words. Bombay and Orion would never betray him.

Reily's mocking tones filled the small room, "I was hardly surprised at your refusal to bend a knee to me when I first met you. I'd thought I had got off pretty lightly: considering your track record, I thought you'd run off crying." 

            The boy in front of him clenched his fists, anger flickering over his countenance.

"Refusing to cheat for a fully-grown man when you're only an eleven-year-old kid seems pretty impressive when you look at it," Reily's voice was soft. "Hell, Bombay certainly thought it was! And even Orion was grudgingly proud of you for refusing to give up your Ducks' jersey, though he'd never admit it."

He paused.

"But I want to make one thing straight, Charles Conway," his voice was harsh. "_I_ do not find your precocious ideals in anyway admirable. You are a disgrace to yourself, to your team and especially to me if you ever even consider disobeying me for any of your sentimental bullshit," he spat the words out. "When I ask you to do something, you damn well do it, a concept I don't think you've fully grasped as of yet." He paused, a smile forming on his thin lips, "But don't worry, you'll learn."

            Charlie stood shocked for a moment as the man's words filtered through his mind. His breath came quicker as the anger that had been pent up since being locked up last night finally broke through his control.

"Do you know what that "sentimental bullshit" is?" his voice trembled with fury, "It's me! Whether you like it or not, I am what I bloody well am! If I refused to cheat for _Bombay_, a guy I admire more than anyone else in the world, do you seriously think that I'd consider cheating for you? That I'd do _anything_ for you?"

            "You'll do what I tell you," Reily's voice was soft, laced with a deadly warning but Charlie ignored it.

"You're wrong! I'd rather quit hockey than spend the rest of the year at your beck and call! I'm not like Banks! I love hockey, not because I'm good at it, but because of the feeling I get when I play, the feeling of belonging I get when I'm with the team!

"And you know what? Ever since you've become Coach I'm not enjoying playing hockey like I used to. I'm not enjoying being around a team that are constantly scared to be what they are just because some angry little Coach has a few control issues!"

"Are you finished?" the Coach's voice was cold.

"No, one last thing." Charlie paused, wanting to make sure that the decision he was going to make was the right one, but he already knew in his mind that it was his only remaining option. He took a deep breath, "Go screw yourself. I'm not playing for you and _your_ version of the Ducks anymore."

            There was a silence. Charlie let out the breath he had been holding and, with it, the anger he had been clinging onto for so long. He knew there was no going back and it was a great burden off his mind.

            He expected the Coach to scream at him, to threaten him, or something just as pleasant so he was astounded when all he heard was a throaty chuckle. 

"You are so amusingly predictable, Conway. Did you ever consider that I might not _allow_ you to quit?"   

An icy tingle moved slowly down the boy's spine. "You can't stop me!" he said, defiantly. 

"True, I can't physically stop you, though I might want to at times," the Coach smiled. "No, _I_ won't be stopping you from quitting, your lack of balls will be."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Let me spell it out for you, Conway. If you quit the hockey team, it's like you're ripping up your scholarship for Eden Hall. You won't be able to come here anymore."

Conway was relieved. If that was all the Coach had to threaten him with then he might as well go and pack his bags now.

"Do you think I care for a load of preppies?"

"No, but I do think you care for your team," the man's voice was smooth and unhurried. "If you willingly leave this school then it will be in my power to remove all of the Ducks' scholarships, whether they wish it or not."

There was a silence in the room.

"You see," the Coach continued, softly, "there is a clause in the terms of your scholarships which states that if the Captain willingly leaves Eden Hall then, if the current Coach wishes, all the team's scholarships can be dissolved immediately."

"You can't do that!" Charlie was scared. He thought desperately, refusing to admit the possibility that he might have to stay at Eden Hall, "They tried before to remove our scholarships and they failed!"

"Ah, but this time things are different. This time the law is on _my_ side."

            Charlie shut his eyes as realisation dawned on him.

"You kept me as Captain so I couldn't leave?"

The Coach smiled, nastily, "Very perceptive of you, Conway. I took certain precautions because you are _so_ predictable." His voice became hard, "If you leave, I'll make damn sure that the rest of the team follow. You have no choice in the matter, Conway."

Conway stared at the man for a moment in total disbelief. The one card he thought was all his to play whenever he wanted had been snatched from him. He was not going to make the entire team leave the school just because _he_ wanted to. Cold realisation washed over him – he had no control over his life at Eden Hall anymore. It had all been relinquished to the man he despised, sitting a few feet away from him.

"I'll see you at practice tomorrow, Conway. Don't be late," and the man signalled casually towards the door, as if he didn't know he had just shattered the life of the boy standing in front of him.   

A/N     I hope you all liked it. I'm thinking that the completion of this has cured my block but in case it hasn't I'm not going to make any promises of when I'm next going to update – just in case!

            I watched D1, D2 and D3 a little while ago and it struck me that they left some huge gaping holes! For example, when the hell did Charlie _actually_ become Captain?? That Icelandish dude just called him "Captain Duck" at the end of D2 and then, suddenly, he has been since like _forever_, in D3?!? I don't get it...

Review me and I'm sure I'll get loads of inspiration and the chapter will be up sooner! Hee hee – God, I'm annoying!

So here's all the "thanx your great" babble…

Also, I am well aware that the resulting page and a half makes my story look a lot longer than it actually is. I hope I didn't get too many hopes up at the length of this chappie! Sorry if I did!

Nygoldfish54: Thank you! You always seem to be the one who reviews first – I am eternally grateful! You felt _real_ emotion?!? My God, that's a compliment and a half – makes me feel like a real author. Ooo the thrills!!!

Nellie2: Will you ever forgive me for taking so long to update?!? I feel so incredibly bad knowing that you probably switched on your PC after patiently waiting a week only to find that I hadn't, in all my selfish stupidity, updated! Feel free to slap me in your next review – that's if you do review again!

Adriana: Thanx – short and sweet and to the point and so worth the effort!

WeBuiltThisCityOnRockAndRoll: Do you have any idea how hard your name is to keep writing?? That can be my punishment for leaving you a blob for the last 2.5 weeks. I hope it hasn't in anyway messed with your head! Tell HP from me that he was a mean, nasty worm for not turning you back straight away! 

Flat*Out*Crazy*: You're right about Adam but I'm gonna have to string that storyline on a bit because it will give my story… wait for it… SUBPLOT!!! Ooo I'm sooo excited! Bombay does need to hurry up but I feel that he might be delayed or something…

C-Chan: Oh My God… (I would just leave it like that to give it more dramatic effect but I gotta thank you so…) You are AMAZING! How you manage to find so many great things about my humble little story I will never know and I would love to find out! Your ESP might not have worked but your updating of your story certainly did! Not only do I love it but it reminded of what I was neglecting. I love you and I hope you will continue reviewing for my ego's sake more than anything!!

xomegsxo: Thanx for reviewing again! Sorry there isn't any of Portman getting tense and angry in this chappie but there will be plenty of bash bros action in the near future – looking forward to writing it myself!

Tonianne: Thanx!

Kar-Chan: Engish essay hey? I know the feeling! Screw Coach Reily, it's the English teachers out there who are the real sadists…

Denverhockeygirl: Thank you, I do so like my story being referred to as "genius". And thank you for the offer of help. None needed at the mo but hey – you watch out for that email! It might be coming soon – or not, knowing me…

Eh_Man: Kinda told you everything in the email. No probs about reviewing twice – makes it seem as if I have more reviews! Just wanted to give u a big hug and tell you that you are one of the bigger reasons why I am writing this!

Krista2: I'm glad you like both me angsty stories! They are fun hee hee! I dunno when I'll be updating Love And Hate Are Such Close Things… but maybe soo – just for you!!    


	7. Betrayal

A/N     I don't want to excite you guys or anything but I just wanted to tell you that I have updated this story in less than a week! Big whoop for me! I put it all down to your great reviews and the inspiration you give me!

            This chappie was fun to write – it shouldn't have been but it was, so there! I really enjoy the macho tension that immediately appears in a story whenever the Bash Brothers make an appearance! Love to them both!

            Also we get some lovely Adam angst in this chapter! Ooo it's exciting!

            My birthday on the 14th!! Wow – I'm gonna be 16! That sounds vaguely scary!

            Well anyway, I hope you enjoy…. 

            "Open up, Banks!"

            The banging on the door echoed noisily through the small dorm room which Adam shared with Charlie. Adam angrily rubbed his throbbing temples, got up off his bed and made his way to the door.

            He pulled it open slightly, not wanting to give the impression that he was in a hospitable mood, "What – ?"

            The door was slammed back into his face, connecting sharply with his nose.

            "Shit! What the hell – ?"

            Portman strode angrily through the door and pushed the smaller boy back into the room. Banks stumbled and fell onto his bed, shocked by the sudden intrusion, his nose throbbing painfully.

            He looked up angrily, ready to complain at the Bash Brother's actions but stopped dead at the expression on Portman's face. He gulped uncertainly but stood up, coming up to the bigger boy's collar bone, ignoring the tickling feeling in his nose which always preceded a nose bleed.

            "Portman! How – "

            "Shut up, Cake eater!" Portman growled, shoving the boy back onto the bed and towering over him. "You want me to pound you here or outside so I don't get blood everywhere?"

            Adam looked up at him, fear catching in his throat. He looked around dazedly, still not fully comprehending the situation, when the door started banging furiously again.

            "Dude, let me in!" 

Portman didn't move. The hammering continued unabatedly.

 "I know you're in there, Portman! Let me in! I don't think it's a good idea for you to be in there alone with Banksie!"

Portman swore under his breath, cast a warning look at Adam, and moved towards the door.

He opened it, "Hey, bro, what's up?"

Fulton elbowed his way into the room, panicked. He glanced at Adam, relief and consternation washing over his features: glad at the fact that the boy wasn't dead but dismayed at the blood gushing out, unchecked, of Adam's nose.  "That's what's up!" he indicated, angrily.

            Portman shrugged, "We were only having a chat," he said casually.

            "Hell, Portman! I'm glad we don't have "chats" too often, I might die from blood loss!"

            Portman's eyes flashed, "I didn't even do it purposefully, Fult! But he deserves it anyway, and more! I can't believe that you're sticking up for him after what he did to Charlie!"

            It was Fulton's turn to get angry. "I am not sticking up for him! You think I agree with what he did? You think I don't want to pound him into oblivion too?" Fulton took a deep breath and glanced at the thoroughly frightened Adam, "And you know why I'm not, Portman? It's because it's Banksie! Hell, he's a teammate! Do you really think that Charlie would agree with us killing our centre forward?"

            Portman opened his mouth to interrupt but Fulton glared at him.

            "Or maiming!" 

Portman looked a little guilty. He glared angrily at Adam, "So what are we going to do about him?"

Fulton glanced over at the smaller boy; "We'll have a little talk with him and wait for Charlie to get back."

Adam looked at them, wide eyed; the thought of having a "little talk" with the Bash Brothers way down on his list of things to do. "Guys, please, I just want to sleep. It's getting late and that was a tough practice."

Portman moved towards him purposefully but Fulton grabbed his arm, "No it _can't_ wait, Banks. This is the life and death of the Ducks we're talking about."

Realisation slowly seeped its way into Adam's skull. He glanced up at the other two nervously and said, quietly, "I need to talk to Charlie about…that. I didn't mean it..."

"Yeah right. Tell me another one, Cake eater. You walked away from him! What the hell was that all about?" Portman still had his fists clenched but he shrugged off Fulton's restraining hand, moved towards Charlie's bed and sat down with a groan: that day's practice still remembered in his aching muscles.

Fulton looked warily at his fellow Bash Brother, as if to make sure that as soon as his back was turned the boy wasn't going to leap on Banks. Apparently satisfied, he turned and shut the door, then pulled out the desk chair and slumped himself onto it, making the chair seem absurdly small with his huge build.

There was a heavy silence in the room.

"So explain." 

Adam looked across at Fulton. He bit his lip, uncertainly, "I didn't know what else to do." He looked down at his lap, "I still wanna play hockey," he said, as if it explained everything.

"Christ, man, and you think we don't?" Fulton's voice was soft. "But what you did to Charlie was low, man…"

"And to do it in front of that dick, Reily…" Portman smashed his curled up fist into his large open hand.

"I didn't mean it to look like I was abandoning him!" Adam's voice cracked in his need to make the Bash Brothers understand why he did what he did. "But I was scared and I wasn't thinking straight and Reily…"

"Would you do it again?" Portman's low voice was intense.

Adam looked up, "What?"

"I said, would you do it again? Would you walk away from your team mate, your Captain and your best friend after he'd just taken a fall just so you could continue playing for Coach Reily?"

Adam was silent. Conflicting emotions battled inside of him: his need for hockey, his want of a passive life, his need for acceptance among the Ducks, the strong desire to please his father, and the overwhelming love and gratitude he felt for his best friend, Charlie Conway.

The same Charlie Conway he had left lying broken on the ice at the whim of a man he severely disliked; the same Charlie Conway he had hated during the Duck's showdown with Varsity; the same Charlie Conway he had picked on countless times when he was a kid, playing for the Hawks.

"You would, wouldn't you?" Portman's voice held barely concealed disgust.

Adam wouldn't lie. "I don't know. Hockey's my life and Charlie's…"

At that moment, someone knocked dully on the door and a quiet, defeated voice could just be heard through the wood.

"Open up, Banksie. It's me."

Adam made to rise but Fulton shook his head at him and stood. He moved quietly to the door and opened it, slowly. 

Charlie looked a little taken aback at the appearance of the Bash Brother. He opened his mouth as if to comment but then sighed and shut it again. Fulton was surprised at the uncharacteristically noncommittal behaviour of his Captain but opened the door wider, letting the sombre boy in.

"Hey, man. How was it?"

Charlie ignored the question, unwilling to put a voice to what had just happened between the Coach and himself. His eyes scanned the small room, widening when they took in the state of Adam's face, the blood from his nose now beginning to soak into his Cake-eater shirt. He stood, shocked, for a moment before glancing accusatorily at Portman. The big boy shrugged at him.

Charlie was silent for a moment. Then he crossed the small room and moved into the bathroom, picked up the box of tissues on the side and exited, chucking the tissues into Adam's lap. He waited until Adam had successfully stemmed the flow of blood before asking the obvious question.

"What the hell happened here?"

Fulton looked at him, guardedly, "We came to have a word with Banksie."

"Really?" Charlie could hardly contain his disbelief. "Looks more like a punch up to me."

Adam moved uncomfortably. "The door," he grunted, his voice muffled by speaking through the tissue pressed to his nose.

Charlie raised one eyebrow but didn't mention anything about his team mate's ability to get out the way of a door. "How is it?" he asked, moving towards Adam, concern flickering in his eyes.

Adam looked up at him, as if scared, "S'alright," he muttered, his cheeks burning a dull red in shame. Portman snorted in derision.

Charlie looked from one to another in confusion. He could feel the tension in the room and he didn't understand the cause of it, let alone Banksie's reaction. "Am I missing something here?"

Fulton looked at him, oddly, "You don't know what he," he nodded in the direction of Adam, "did?"

"Did? Did what?" Charlie was bewildered. "Banksie?" he turned to the slightly taller boy perched uncomfortably on his bed.         

Portman looked at Adam, his eyes flashing, "Yeah, _Banksie_. What did you do? Or, more to the point, what _didn't_ you do?" 

"Bro, enough," Fulton's voice was uncharacteristically sharp. "Come on, we should leave Banks to tell Charlie on his own accord."

Portman looked as if he was going to refuse, "What if he doesn't tell him?"

Fulton looked across at Adam, "Come on, man. Give him _some_ credit!"

Portman stood up, muttering obscenities under his breath. He crossed the room, banged open the door and stopped at the threshold. 

He turned back. "Dude," he addressed Charlie, "what happened with the psycho?" 

Charlie's face contorted, "Ask me the same question in the morning, man, and I might feel like answering it. Let me sleep on it first, hey?"

Portman nodded, curtly, and left.

Fulton looked between the two boys, "Good luck," he said, simply and moved out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

The room seemed a lot bigger after the two large boys had left. Charlie looked at Adam but the other boy refused to return his gaze, looking down at the bloody tissue he held in his lap.

"It stopped bleeding?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah."

There was a silence. Charlie collapsed down onto his own bed, exhaustion overcoming his limbs and his ability to stand up. He let out a sigh of gratitude. Adam glanced at the other boy and smiled painfully at the expression of pleasure on his Captain's face.

"So, Banks," Charlie stated simply, "what did you do to me that got the Bash Bros so uptight? You piss in my bed or something?" he grinned lopsidedly.

Adam looked at the boy, slightly unsure of how to start his confession, especially when faced with Charlie's attempt at humour.

"I betrayed you." Straight to the point.

Charlie took in a deep breath and rolled over onto his side, propping his head up on his hand. He studied Adam's expression and fear gnawed within his stomach at the magnitude of what the boy had just said.

"What d'you mean?"

"What I said: I betrayed you."

"How?"

"I walked away from you. You were hurt and lying on the ice and I bloody well moved away from you when that bastard told me to!" his anger at himself and at Reily surfaced and he punched his fist into his pillow.

Charlie looked at him, only now remembering the second presence that had knelt over him after the hit he had taken from the Coach. He looked at his best friend but didn't feel any hatred towards the obviously mortified Adam.

"Hey man, no sweat. Heat of the moment thing, you know?"

Adam looked at him, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, "But that's the thing, Charlie. I'm not entirely sure that it was a heat of the moment thing. If I was presented with the same situation now I think I might do it all over again."

Charlie didn't say a word. He had always thought that hockey had been more important to Banks than their friendship but to have it slapped in his face like that was… well, it was unparalleled. He glanced over at the other boy and was shocked to see a tear make its course down his cheek and fall, mixing with the blood on his shirt.

Charlie wanted to tell him it was all alright, but he couldn't because he knew it wasn't. "Well, thanks for being… honest about it," he said, unable to come up with any other positive thing to say about what Adam had just admitted.

There was an intense silence.

"Well," Charlie wanted to get away from his best friend but that was impossible as they both shared a room, "I'm kinda tired…"

Adam looked at him and nodded, dismally. He got up and moved to the bathroom, locking the door after him. He stared into the mirror for a second before turning on the tap, bending over, and angrily scrubbing away the unwelcome tears that had appeared, unbidden, in his eyes.

He towelled his face roughly, taking pleasure in the pain that the action inflicted on his sore nose. He felt dissatisfied with Charlie's reaction. The boy should have screamed at him, should have punched him, should have renounced him as his friend but he hadn't. He rubbed his nose once more, wincing against the pain, inflicting the punishment on himself in Charlie's stead.

When he opened the door the lights were off and he crawled miserably into bed. He lay there for about half an hour, listening to the other boy's irregular breathing, knowing full well that he wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep.

A thought began nagging at the back of his mind and he futilely tried to force it away. It returned though, full force, denying Adam sleep until he had asked the question.

"Charlie?"

"Yeah?" the boy's quick response proved Adam's idea correct: the boy hadn't been sleeping.

He hesitated but forced himself to ask, "What happened between you and Reily?" 

Adam heard the rustle of Charlie's bed sheets as he turned over in the dark. He was silent for such a long time that Adam wondered if he was going to reply at all. He didn't know what he would do if his Captain didn't. 

"He wouldn't let me leave," Charlie's voice was quiet and Adam strained to hear it.

"You wanted to leave?" Adam was shocked.

"Yeah." There was another long silence. "Night, Adam."

"Night, Charlie."

Adam turned over and attempted to get to sleep but was still conscious a long while after Charlie had finally drifted off. His mind was still fully active and it was not satisfied with Charlie's answer.

Charlie Conway, Captain Duck, wanted to leave the Ducks? Abandon them? A dry voice in the corner of his mind reminded him that he, Adam Banks, had done exactly the same to his friend.

He turned over and looked into the inky blackness where Charlie was lying, a strong need to protect the slightly younger boy raging through his mind. He smiled for the first time in what seemed like ages as his mind found an answer to his problem. Just because Adam still submitted to the Coach's orders didn't mean he couldn't look out for his best friend. Even if Charlie didn't want to be around him, he'd still be there for him, whenever he needed him.

Banks smiled and shut his eyes, slowly drifting off into sleep.  

A/N     Just wanted to set the record straight – I am not an Adam hater. Adam's a cool guy (even if he has a huge nose) and is an invaluable member in the angst section that I so adore!

            I don't think I'm being too mean here anyway. I think I'm portraying him more as a confused individual that a nasty one! Feel free to disagree!

Nygoldfish: You really do astound me! You managed to update before ff.net even showed that my story was updated! I don't know whether you'll be first to review this time as I will be posting it at another time *****evil grin*****. As you demanded I have attempted to show what was wrong with Banksie – I hope it didn't disappoint! I have an evil coach too – where do they get off being evil?!? Don't worry – you don't scare me – well not too much anyway : ) 

Krista2: Aww you're so sweet! Thank you for the concern and the sympathy! I feel that my writer's block might be gone forever! *jumps out the window, touches a tree, then returns panting* Touch wood! Hope you enjoy this chapter! 

Ice Cube: *grins ashamedly * No, I don't think you did read the chapter wrong. From what you say it sounds as if I'm a first class unsportsmanlike writer! Ha ha! Quite funny in a strange way! Thank you for the info – it's really useful when I learn some stuff about ice hockey! You say that crashing someone into the boards is not allowed? They seemed to do that a hell of a lot in all of the Duck movies – or do you have to smash them into the boards with malicious intent or something?

Kate: You're my number 1 fan? *looks around embarrassed and scuffs shoe on the floor * Really? *smiles with childish glee* That's so nice! Love you too! 

            I'll tell you a little secret (but only because you're so nice to me and I'm trying to persuade to write some Duck Angst) – I kinda lied when I said that I hadn't seen D1 or D2 in ages in my first chapter. The truth is *leans forward conspiratorially* I hadn't seen either or them when I first started this fic! That's why some of the team's characterisation was so crap in the first couple of chapters! I had only seen D3 once and that is why I was so obsessed with Charlie – him being the star of that one!

            I have now seen all three but believe me – the other two are no way as good as the third! Charlie's a bit of wimp to tell you the truth! Go on! Make me happy – join me in my land of Charlie angst!

Anne918: Thank you! I love your story too even if there's a load of Charlie bashing! Ah well, a girl needs some perspective!

Nellie2: I know – I'm finding it incredibly easy to hate Reily too! Ha ha – he's an evil swine! (don't you just love that word? "swine" hee hee) Anyway, moving on… Thank you for not abandoning me! Love you loads for it!

XoMEGSxo: Wow – somebody after my own heart! Totally know what you mean about Charlie and his suckiness in D1 and D2! D1 had some good moments though… Ahh, that cheating scene will still be with me when I die… But yeah! I mean, he was total crap at the game! That's not how it's supposed to go. Also, the producer or whoever is in charge of the film, really mucked up his character in D3 making him seem like a puck hog and stuff! I mean – if he was a puck hog would he have given his place at the Goodwill Games to Banksie?!? I think not! Thanks for reviewing! My fic "fricken rocks"? Aw that's so nice! Love you too!

Chelsea: I feel I might confuse the other Chelsea out there! This is to the one who likes rock! Hee hee – I feel you might have underlying issues! I did update sooner! Yay! Believe me, I was just as excited about that as I hope you will be! I don't think I'd like to walk into YOUR closet on a dark night…

CakeEater'sGirly: From the name I assume you like Banksie! I hope you don't think I abused him too much in the last chapter! Hee hee! Thanks for the review – love getting new reviewers! Which one are you, by the way? Your bio says that there are more than one of you *shakes head in confusion*.

C-Chan: You know, I really feel that I might have found my soulmate in you! You are such a flipping great person! The inspiration helped and all is good in the world of blockiness! I felt quite bad enjoying writing this chapter so much when I am in fact tearing the poor lad's life apart! He's sooo gonna get his own back though! You just watch! Ha ha! I actually believe I know where this story is leading *pats self on back* and I am amazed! 

            The inspiration you sent and the fear of drowning in someone else's tears spurred me on to write this! Thank you for the continuous support *hugs* - you're so great!

Angelfury: Thanks for both reviews! I love getting new and unexpected people reviewing my story! Brilliant and excellent, hey? *sniffs* You're so nice!

Angel Ecstasy: It is good for us all to get our sadistic pleasure from this site rather than running around kidnapping people and then torturing them – I'd actually say this was pretty healthy! Hope this chapter told you all you needed to know about Banks! Thanks for the review!

Adriana3: I updated soon! Woo hoo! Go me!! Yeah that could make sense with the whole appointing captain thing. I might have overlooked that dialogue, probably fuming about Charlie not playing in the most important match! 

I was just pretty upset because I was looking forward to like speeches and tears and stuff! Ah well – me and my imagination can maybe think up something for that. This is ff.net after all! 


	8. Plans

A/N     Heya to all you guys out there! I'm on holiday!!! Woohoo! I'm so majorly excited it's not even funny – mind you I am meant to be doing revision for my mocks so that kinda sucks but hey! You have to live with it or you kill yourself and I'm having far too much fun on ff.net to want to do that at the mo.

            See, that's good – you guy's inspire me not to kill myself!!

            I just had to have an appearance of Bombay in my story – the dude is so cool that it just wouldn't be right otherwise.

            Mind you, there are limits. Did anyone else get slightly peed off at the fact that Emilio blahblahblah (can't be bothered to write his name) is still considered to be the main character in D3 even though the fire ants have a bigger part than him?!? He just appears at the beginning, says toodle peeps, then has that amazingly cool scene when he wakes Charlie up (BEST MOMENT OF FILM!!!) and then comes in again at the end.

            Ok, so maybe I'm slightly biased with my love for Charlie but I really think that he was the main part in D3, along with Orion and maybe Fulton, so they should be the ones cited as the main parts!!

            Ok, stressiness gone! Ha ha – I'm normal really… Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Charlie looked nervously around the dark and deserted corridor before picking up the phone in the lobby of the boy's dorms and placing it to his ear. He winced at the loudness of the dialing tone, glanced down at the coins in his palm, picked two and slotted them into the box on the wall. He took out a slip of paper from his pyjama bottoms and squinted at it, trying to make out the scrawled numbers in the gloom. Gingerly he tapped them into the phone and then waited for the operator to connect him, moving nervously from one foot to another.

            The phone rang and rang and Charlie became agitated as it became clear that no one was going to answer. He replaced the handset and then quickly picked it back up and pressed the redial button.

            He waited for what seemed an eternity, his whole being listening so intently to the monotonous tone that he almost fell over when it stopped and a voice replaced it.

            "Yes?" it croaked in annoyance.

            "Coach?"

            There was a silence.

            "Charlie?!" the voice held disbelief. "Jesus Christ, kid, it's 4.30 in the morning!"

            Charlie winced and looked around the dark, deserted corridor, worried that someone had heard Bombay's exclamation.

            "I know. I'm sorry, I just… I just really need to talk to you."

            Charlie heard the man sigh, "Coach Reily?"

            The boy nervously played with the metal cord that attached the handset of the phone to the box on the wall, "Partly."

            There was a silence from the other end.

            Charlie felt completely alone, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have bothered you, not at this time anyway. I didn't really notice the time and…"

            Bombay chuckled, "Charlie Conway, the boy who defines "sleeping in" didn't notice the time? Wow, something really must be up." The voice sobered, "Seriously, Charlie, it's no hassle you phoning, it's just nice to be fully awake when you do. Just let me put a tracksuit on and I'll come and collect you and we can talk. Are you at the dorms?"

            "Yeah."

            "Ok. I'll meet you outside in twenty minutes and we'll go for a ride."

            "Thanks Coach." 

            "Bye, Charlie."

            The dial tone returned as the Coach put down the phone. Charlie stood still for a minute, disjointedly thinking how nice it was to be referred to as "Charlie" rather than "Conway".

            He replaced the receiver with a soft click and quietly made his way back to the room he shared with Adam.

            Charlie had been sitting on the concrete steps outside for fifteen minutes, getting steadily colder in his jersey and jeans but refusing steadfastly to return to the building which was the root of all his current suffering, when Bombay's car pulled up next to him.

            He got up stiffly and opened the door to Bombay's dark green Mercedes, swiftly sliding himself onto the front passenger leather seat. He looked at his old Coach and smiled lopsidedly at him.

            "Hey, Coach."

            "Hey, Charlie."

Bombay looked at him solemnly for a couple of seconds, before turning back to the wheel and pulling out into the lightening dawn. They drove in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before Bombay pulled into a lay-by, turned off the engine, unclipped his seatbelt and turned to the boy.

"So, what's up?"

"Life in general," Charlie said. Now that he was actually given the chance to share his thoughts and feelings with Bombay he found himself stalling. He had never been very good with sharing his weaknesses with others and he felt vaguely ashamed at his current predicament.

Bombay sighed, "Look, Charlie, there is obviously something seriously wrong otherwise you would _not_ have phoned me up at this godforsaken hour."

Charlie bit his lip but remained silent, trying to find a way to explain all his feelings to his old Coach.

"Charlie, you're closer than a son to me. I want to help you in any way I can but you're not making this very easy for me. If you need space then I'll give you space but I don't think that _is_ what you want at the moment."

Charlie looked at him, "Everything's gone wrong," he said quietly.

Bombay waited for him to expand on his statement. 

Charlie looked out the window at the snow-covered pavement, "I thought Eden Hall would be great. I thought it was the only way the entire team could play together, the only way the Ducks could fly. Even when I found out you weren't going to be our coach and I was having all those problems with Coach Orion in the first year, I still had the Ducks, I still had hockey, I still had the decision to be what I wanted to be."

"So what's changed? Even with Reily, you've still got everything you had then."

Charlie looked at Bombay unhappily, "I thought I did, too, until yesterday."

Bombay looked at Charlie, "Explain."

Charlie looked down at his lap, "It got worse – what Reily was doing to us, I mean. He got really pissed off when I wouldn't tell him why I missed practice when I came to see you and he locked me in the ice rink for 5 hours."

Bombay looked at the boy, expecting to see the tell tale smile of a joke flitter across his face but was shocked to see the boy in deadly earnest.

"He locked you in the ice rink for 5 hours?!"

Charlie nodded.

"Why didn't you go and see the Dean? He's a decent guy when you get past all his pomposity. Reily can't pull a stunt like that without serious repercussions."

Charlie sighed, "I did, that was one of the problems. I went and told him what had happened but Reily had been there that morning and…" he took a deep breath. "Dean Buckley thought I was lying. He gave me two detentions and told me to apologise to Reily."

Bombay breathed in sharply through his teeth, "What happened?"

"I went to the practice and Reily was even angrier than usual: he heard that we had all tried to get him chucked out and he was pissed. He showed Fulton and Portman some new enforcer moves and then he told them to practice them on us. The guys had no choice: if they didn't hurt us then Reily would have…"

There was a heavy silence in the car. 

Bombay looked at Charlie and a niggling suspicion played in the back of his mind, "Did he hurt you, Charlie?"

Charlie nodded, miserably, "Yeah." His voice broke, "God, it hurt, Coach, and I couldn't do anything about it and then Banks…"

He leaned his head back on the headrest and took in a deep shuddering breath.

"What did Adam do?" Bombay's voice was soft and understanding.

Charlie shut his eyes, "He and Julie moved to me, trying to help me, and when Reily told them to back off, Julie didn't but he did."

Bombay nodded sympathetically, "Look, Charlie, that may have seemed a big thing but he probably didn't mean it. He was probably just scared…"

Charlie turned away from him, angry tears glistening in his eyes, "That's what I wanted to think, believe me I did! And when he told me how sorry he was I told him that it was ok and that it was just a heat of the moment thing but he said that he thought he'd do it to me again if that asshole wanted him to!"

The boy looked at him, his voice disturbingly quiet, "Friends aren't meant to do that to each other, are they? I mean, if you can think of any way that he can do that to me and still be my friend, please tell me. It's just…" he trailed off, trying to find words to get across his situation. "If it was anyone but Reily…"

Bombay leant across the car and pulled Charlie into a deep hug. Charlie was stiff and unresponsive for a few seconds before he relaxed into it. Bombay pulled away and offered him a tissue from the glove compartment. Charlie took it and scrubbed angrily at his eyes with it. Nether of them said anything: Bombay because he didn't know what to say after what Charlie had just told him, and Charlie because he was emotionally exhausted.

A few minutes past before Bombay broke the silence.

"Maybe you could have a break from school? I could call your mom and…"

Charlie shook his head dejectedly, "I can't."

"Why not? It's not like you worry about your studies and it would do you good to get away from all of this for a bit."

"You don't understand! I said, I _can't_!" Charlie shoved the door open angrily and got out of the stuffy car, slamming the door behind him, revelling in the cold dawn air. After a moment, the driver's door opened and Charlie heard light footsteps make their way around the car until they were directly behind him.

"Why can't you?" the voice was soft but demanded an answer.

Charlie scuffed the ground with one battered trainer, "There's a clause in our scholarships which says that if the Captain of the team leaves the school willingly then the Coach has the power to take away the rest of the team's places at Eden hall."

A hand rested on his shoulder and gently propelled him around until he was face to face with his old Coach.

"Reily told you this?" Bombay's voice was thick with anger.

Charlie nodded and looked dismally at the ground, "He said that he'd heard about me and my "confrontational attitude" from you and Orion and that's why he kept me as Captain. So I wouldn't have any choice: so I'd have to stay at Eden Hall."

Bombay placed a hand under Charlie's chin and raised his head until he was eye to eye with the boy, "Firstly, I can tell you now that I certainly did _not_ say anything unpleasant to Reily about you or any of the Ducks and I find it very hard to believe that Orion would either."

Charlie nodded, a faint smile flickering over his countenance, "I didn't think you would but Reily seemed to know everything about me."

Bombay looked at him gravely, "Don't ever think I would betray your trust, Charlie."

Charlie smiled again, slightly uncomfortable at the intensity of feeling showing in Bombay's eyes.

Bombay sighed, "But as for the scholarship clause… It sounds too spiteful to be false and it is definitely very possible to have such a condition. I wish I could tell you otherwise, Charlie, but it sounds as if the only way you can get out of Eden Hall is if all the Ducks want to leave, or if you're willing to put your happiness before theirs."

Charlie nodded miserably and shivered, "I know. That's the conclusion I came up with."

Bombay put an arm around the boy's shoulders and guided him back to the car, "I've got to get you back. I don't want you to anger your Coach any more than you have to."

They were silent on the way back 

As Bombay pulled up to the dorms he gave Charlie a sorrowful look, "I'm sorry I haven't been of any help to you, Charlie. I'll keep looking for news of Reily's activities before he joined Eden Hall."

Bombay lent across and gave Charlie one last fatherly hug, "Stay safe, kid. Maybe if you're nice to Reily he might get bored of you and kick you out of school himself."

Charlie got out of the car and watched as his old Coach drove away, his mind racing. Though Bombay's last words had been meant as a joke, they had sparked a thought in Charlie's mind, a thought that was steadily growing into a plan.

He turned and made his way back into the building, not as reluctant as he had been before. He climbed steadily to the second floor and made his way to his room, where he sat on his bed, thoughtfully.

The terms of his scholarship said that the whole team could only be chucked out if the Captain left _willingly_. Well, what would happen if it was _Reily_ who chucked him out of the team? What if Reily got so fed up with him that he made him leave?

Possibilities ran through Charlie's head. He knew he wasn't the sort of person who could play hockey rubbishly just to get chucked out: he had too much of an ego and he still had hopes of becoming a hockey player when he had finished his education. He also didn't want to be expelled: he didn't think his mom would like it and he was worried that it might restrict his choices later on in life. Ideally, he wanted Reily to get so pissed off with him that he was willing to let him go without dissolving all of the other's scholarships in the meanwhile.

That only left one possibility, then, and it was by far the most fun out of them all. Charlie grinned, the first proper, Duck-worthy grin he had had in a long time. The puck was down _his_ end now and he wasn't going to relinquish it to Reily without a fight. The best type of fight: a prank fight!

Charlie flung himself backwards on his bed and had to smother a laugh. Charlie Conway, Captain Duck, was in his element once again, and no one, not even a psychopathic coach, was going to stop him!  

 A/N    Ooo I'm going to have SO much fun writing the next couple of chapters!! Gonna have to have some serious thought time about what the pranks are going to be though!!

Go on – keep reviewing. If you do, I'll write you a lovely reply _and_ I'll update!! Two things for the price of one – you can't pass that one up!

Sophie's Conscience: I'm sorry for what Sophie just said. I am terribly ashamed and I will be bashing her over the head with a piano leg shortly. It is wrong to ask for reviews *glares at Sophie who is cowering in corner* as well she knows! 

Chelsea (fellow Charlie lover): How in the name of yankee doodle do you and Kate manage to write such long reviews?!? I try – honestly I try – but they just seem to lower my standing in the world of ff.net by showing people just how dumb I am! I don't think I actually have that much to talk about!

I love the fact that we seem to have multiple conversations going on – not only through this but also through The Man he Chose Not to be and soon (fingers crossed) Love and Hate…

My most violent chapter is soon to come too – even including the one where Reily feels the need to try out some of his enforcer moves on Charlie!! Ooo that's gonna be one angsty chapter! Can't wait!!

I also can't wait (see the linkage there?? My English teacher would be proud) for you to update!! Looking forward to it! Such a great idea to have Charlie swapping places, so that he's the one that's gonna be playing for varsity!! 

Once again I am overly amazed at your power to love my story so much! If you ever become a critic you do realise that you will be inundated (that is a strange word) with flowers and you may be the one who causes world peace…

LOVE YOU with extra sugar on top – ohh I'm soooo romantic. I am actually really considering going and jumping into my pond for that one! Ahh well, too late – can't be bothered. Sorry to disappoint *evil grin*.

xoMEGSxo: I love you like a fat kid loves cake – no honestly, you're great! Ha – that rhymed, go me!! It's scary just how similar I think our views are on the Mighty Ducks! It's a good thing – I think. 

I'm sorry, I don't think this reply is making any sense at all! I love the way that your reviews seem to be growing over time – makes me feel wanted and loved. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as the last!

Kate: I am finding it faintly amusing that we're reading each other's reviews for Chelsea's fic! I am feeling incredibly guilty for inducing your second review which was aimed at me. If Chelsea's anything like me, I would have been terribly excited to have got another review only to find that it wasn't a review as such, more of a convo between the CHARLIE ANGST LOVERS!! 

I'm sorry Chelsea! Please forgive me for eavesdropping (or the substitute for reading) on Kate and your reviews. I feel bad *slap* *Ow*! 

I am insanely jealous at your review writing skills and I must admit defeat – unless I cunningly just write out quotes from Shakespeare, therefore filling up space and making my review seem longer than yours! HA! I am as cunning as fox who went to the university of cunning (God bless Black Adder)! This war is not over yet – you shall see *evil laugh* *choke* - ever find that evilly laughing is not cracked up as it's made out?!

I hesitate to give you my msn address simply because I fear that the randomness of the resulting conversations will make my brain explode. But, ahh well, it's a risk I'm willing to take. It's i_love_this_wicked_world@hotmail.com. Yes, I know it's quite embarrassingly naïve but I was young and foolish and hadn't heard of coursework!

Sloane Miette: I loved the whole "it's a little bit completely unrealistic"!! Made me laugh! I'm sorry if it is but, hey, how boring would all these stories be if they were at all realistic? After all, there is a limit to the amount of times Banksie can commit suicide or the multiple pregnancies both Connie and Julie have inflicted on them!! That's why we have ff.net after all! 

Sugar? You'll give me sugar? YAY!! *narrows eyes* How much are we talking here? I feel that I at least deserve a bag for this chapter but I'm willing to negotiate…

Anne: I'm glad you didn't find Adam too mean! Liking your story a lot! There is a plethora (try saying that out loud) of good stories out at the mo! Yours is up there with the ones I look out for!!

Kristine: You demanded so I gave, hee hee – I'm such a push over! Your reviews make me laugh – totally know the feeling of the 1.30 syndrome! Just one question – why in the name of mash potato did you connect to the internet after stumbling in? I would have been dead to the world in a matter of minutes! Well, I'm eternally grateful for the review! Hope this chapter lived up to your expectations…

Chelsea: You know, your reviews just seem to brighten up my day, though I have no clue about some of the things you're referring to! Ahh well, the price of being ignorant! I really think I should get around to renting out Newsies if Portman is looking as fit as you are leading me to believe!

I'm a mongrel? Ha ha – some of my friends would love you for calling me that! Well, they like to call themselves my friends but I ask you, would you call people who enjoy seeing other people call me names (like mongrel) your friends??

Ahh well, I'm stuck with them until I move onto college…

Thank you for the praise *blushes furiously*. I have this problem with blushing, actually – I blush far too easily! I should go to a doctor about it…

IceCube: Bit of malice? Moi? More angst? How could you expect such things from a writer who is renowned for her happiness and frequent appearances of bunnies and ice cream men?? HA – what a joke! Did you get my email by the way?? About how the ice is formed? Would heap embarrassing amounts of praise on you if you could help me…

Nellie: That has got to be the nicest thing that anyone said to me that day. You almost called in late?!?! I am so emotionally overcome that I might just have to go and have a little cry in the corner over there by myself *goes, cries, comes back*. Thank you! You're lovely! I hope that you enjoyed this chapter just as much as the last – it is actually a pleasure writing for you!

Krista: I am truly glad that I could make your day better! It makes my life just that little bit more complete knowing that I have some use in my otherwise totally useless life!! Hee hee! Did you get my reply? I put another review on the plot bunny! Did you get inspiration? Are you going to write some Charlie Angst?!? That would be totally swell if you did! Maybe you could become a member of our non-nonexistant angst group!? Love you!!! Ta ra!

Kshyne99: A NEW REVIEWER! *Does strange dance that everyone laughs at* *slaps everyone for laughing*. I really like reviews which are so filled with lovely words! Thank you soo much. I hope you continue reading!!

Jazza: ANOTHER NEW REVIEWER! You guys get me so hyped up! Thank you! You're great also!


	9. Immature Humour

A/N     Howdy ho to all you great people reading my story! Have I ever told you I love you all? Well, probably, but I'll tell you again.

            God this story is turning out to be a bit of an epic, isn't it? I was considering reading it from beginning to end to see how well it flowed but I just really couldn't be bothered…

            I have just realised something that _really_ bothers me. My story, so far, has only chronicled one entire day so far. Can you believe it?? So, yeah, there was a half a day at the beginning and I'm about half way through the current day so altogether that totals around 48 hours. 48 hours!! Do you realise how many weeks this has taken to write?? AHHHHH! Can you imagine trying to write a book?

            Seen loads of movies recently. Some of you peeps over the other side of the Atlantic might laugh at the thought that Holes and Finding Nemo have only just come out over here.

            Great films! Loved them both! Holes the book was slightly better I thought but I love Shia whateverhisnameis (LaBeouf??) so that was great and they had more characterisation in the film, would you believe, which was also tremendously fabby!

            There was this odd stalker guy at the cinema, though. I was filling my drink up (it was like self service) and he was like "Here you are", giving me the lid for the drink. I was like "thanks" and then he was like "here's one for your friend", giving me another one for Naomi.

            I was beginning to think he was a trifle weird and kinda shuffled away from him and… 

You guys really don't care about any strange stalker guys do you? You're just here to read my story. Sorry, I tend to ramble on a bit.

Kate: I will put you here so you don't have to scroll to the bottom – see I'm a considerate friend! (sorry to anyone else, just skip this) I hope you don't get confused and go to the bottom and can't find my reply. Ahh well, here's hoping you have some intelligence *evil grin*. I loved the whole "semi quick review"! My darling, how do you manage on your mobile when you're texting someone? Thank you for all the love you send me through your reviews – they're luverly! Seen Holes now and read the book! I see from your ff.net profile AND your msn profile that you liked Holes just a little bit (heavy sarcasm used here)! It was great, wasn't it?? I'm gonna try and find time to read your Holes stories just so I can see how great they are! Maybe then I could get a little no. 1 fan flag too! Oh happy days! I thought of something mildly upsetting. We might never be on msn at the same time because of the time difference!? *looks mournful* What will we do??  

Anyway, to everyone out there, not just Kate, here it is. Hope you enjoy…   

            "So, dude, what happened with you and the asshole last night?" Portman's voice easily carried across the long table.

            Charlie looked up from his toast and grimaced, "The usual 'you will do exactly as I tell you otherwise you will wish you've never been born' shit." He smothered a yawn, "Just got me a little more uptight than usual, what with the practice and all."

            Goldberg paused in the demolition of the bacon and eggs in front of him and spoke through a mouthful, "Can totally see where you're coming from with that, Charlie. Pass me the ketchup, would you?"

            Charlie shook his head at Goldberg's predictability. He scanned the breakfast table for the ketchup, found it on his right, and reached for it. However, before his outstretched fingers could touch the glass bottle, someone else scooped it up and passed it to Goldberg. Goldberg grunted, "Thanks, Banks," and continued eating.

            Charlie looked up at the other boy. Adam raised one eyebrow and Charlie scowled: he had forgotten that he had told Banks what the Coach had _really_ said. He shook his head slightly and Adam raised both eyebrows in a silent question. Charlie shook his head again, more forcefully, his eyes locked with Adam's. Adam met the confrontational blue eyes gravely, not budging an inch. Charlie growled under his breath and got up.

            "See you at practice, guys. I've gotta go and collect my skates: they were being sharpened."

            And with one last warning glance at Banks, Charlie exited the dining hall.

            Adam leant back in his chair and sighed heavily, a frown creasing his brow. He didn't understand why Charlie hadn't told the rest of the Ducks what had really happened last night. So yeah, sure, they would be pretty upset that he wanted to leave them but they'd understand his reasons, they might even be able to help him out.

            And anyway, Charlie said he _wasn't_ leaving, that Reily hadn't _allowed_ him to leave. 

Adam stared gloomily at his cereal. That was another thing he didn't understand: how on earth could Reily keep Charlie at Eden Hall against his will? Surely he couldn't have anything on Charlie to blackmail him with. 

            Had he threatened him?

            Adam didn't think so. He knew Charlie and he knew how he would have reacted if the Coach had tried anything like that on him. He probably would have laughed at him.

            Adam took a drink of his lukewarm orange juice and swished it around his mouth, trying to think of other possibilities. 

Had he hurt him?

            It was possible, he supposed. Charlie was proud and probably wouldn't even tell his best friend if… 

Adam got up angrily, making his chair scrape loudly on the floor, earning himself a glare from Portman. 

I'm not his best friend anymore, God damn it! Get that through your thick skull, Adam!

He quickly gathered his breakfast stuff up, nodded absently to the Ducks in way of goodbye, and walked stiffly across the polished wood floor to the serving hatch. He forced his mind off Charlie as he handed his tray to the kitchen staff and focused on the upcoming practice, trying to figure out what he needed to get from his room.

"Clean jersey, socks, collect my skates…"

He stopped dead. Yesterday, in the changing rooms, he had realised that his skates needed sharpening and he had offered to take Charlie's along with his. Charlie had declined his offer, saying that he had only got them sharpened on Wednesday.

His mind darted back to the conversation at the table and his eyes narrowed. Charlie had said he needed to go and get his skates – another lie he had told to the Ducks in a matter of minutes.

What the hell was Charlie up to? Adam chewed worriedly on a fingernail as he hurriedly made his way to his room. He had a most disconcerting feeling that the two lies were connected. He grabbed his hockey stick and turned to the door, fervently wishing that he believed in a God. If he had, this would be a great time to start praying.

Charlie, he thought desperately, please don't do anything stupid!

Charlie arrived at the changing rooms and began to get changed quickly, not wanting to miss the start of the lesson. The other Ducks followed suit, unconsciously taking the lead from their Captain. There was a palpable air of tension in the room. After the last practice, none of the Ducks were looking forward to meeting Reily again.

As he bent down to do up his skates, Charlie felt someone's eyes on him. He ignored them, knowing full well they belonged to Banks. He sighed angrily, the adrenaline that had been building in his veins since he had put his plan into action being dampened by Banks' obvious suspicion and disapproval.

He stood up, grabbed his stick, and made his way out onto the ice with Russ, the Bash Brothers slightly behind, with the rest of the team behind them.

"Warm up, guys," Charlie called to the Ducks. "Like Reily would want us. We don't want to give him any excuse to get mad again. I personally like my bones _unbroken_."

The rest of the team chuckled and began skating in a formation that Reily had shown them a week ago. Charlie joined them, skating leisurely, his eyes fixed on the door where Reily would appear, trying, rather unsuccessfully, to smother a grin.

When Reily opened the door and skated onto the ice, whistle around his neck, Charlie called an immediate halt to the warm up and signalled the Ducks to be still, waiting patiently for the man to reach them.

Reily's eyes gleamed at the apparent change of attitude in the Captain. He nodded sharply in Charlie's direction, a knowing smile spreading to his lips. Charlie's grip tightened on his hockey stick until it hurt, his knuckles white, successfully keeping his face emotionless.

"Take a knee."

The team, obediently, knelt.

"Today, I want to practice our passes, especially slap shots. Icing the puck is often a very effective technique, a technique I do not think you take enough advantage of. Pair up and practice length ways down the rink. Any questions?"

No one moved.

"Good." Reily raised the whistle to his lips, "Go!" and he blew it.

However, instead of the sharp piercing noise which should have been emitted from the instrument, another lower, more obscene noise was made.

Silence descended. The Ducks looked at each other, each biting their tongues to prevent them from laughing out loud. Averman grew steadily redder as he rocked backwards and forwards, a strange expression of pain on his face.

Dwayne looked around.

"That sounded like a…" Dwayne was obviously puzzled. "Goldberg?"

Goldberg looked indignant, "No way can any of you blame _that_ on me!"

Adam's eyes swiftly darted to Charlie and he wasn't surprised by what he saw. The boy was looking _too_ innocent: frowning puzzledly, his eyes wide with shock. Adam looked anxiously back at the Coach, fear building up inside of him at what the man's reaction would be.

Reily was deadly still, his eyes narrowed to slits. His gaze darted from the Ducks, to the whistle, back to the Ducks again. He shook the whistle jerkily and rubbed it stiffly on his jacket, then raised it to his lips.

He paused and spoke dangerously softly, his voice carrying to every single one of the hockey team, "If this whistle doesn't sound like _my_ whistle when I blow it then someone is going to find themselves in a lot of trouble."

He blew. Same effect. 

Averman couldn't restrain himself any longer. His high laugh carried eerily loudly across the ice. It was as if he had broken a dam: the Ducks just couldn't hold it in. All the anger, the fear, the restrained emotions that Reily had caused them over the few weeks he had been their coach finally found an outlet. They couldn't stop. It began as the gut-wrenching laughter which hurt but felt so good at the same time, but it grew until it was nearly hysterical, as if the Ducks refused to stop laughing, as if they refused to go back to reality and the reality of their Coach's reaction.   

Reily glared furiously at them all.

"Laps! All of you! Now!" he barked over the bedlam.

The laughs subsided, all of the Ducks wrestling with their facial expressions, trying desperately to get them back to looking respectful. They weren't very successful. 

They stood up and, wobbily, started their laps, now and again a laugh escaping from someone's guarded lips.   

Reily's wrath was immeasurable. He turned and skated angrily off the ice.

"I will be back. And, if I were you, I wouldn't _dare_ slack off those laps!"     

            "Did you see his face?" Guy asked, delightedly. "He looked like he'd swallowed a live skunk!"

            Russ chuckled, "I don't think that quite covers his exact expression, Guy. I'd say it looked more like he'd swallowed a live skunk with an acute case of gas!"

            Connie skated past them. "What a colourful image," she grinned. "You guys are gross!"

            "No, Connie, you just don't understand us. We're not gross, we're geniuses!"

            Julie skated up behind the threesome. "You got it wrong, Russ. The _real_ genius is whoever pulled that stunt."

            Luis sped past them. "Maybe someone should go check on Averman," he called to them. "He ain't looking too good."

            They looked across the ice at Averman's clumsy figure. He still hadn't recovered properly and had developed a severe case of hiccups. It looked like he was having problems breathing.

            Fulton skated up behind him and shoved him lightly, almost sending him into the boards and dislodging his glasses. "Hey, Dude," Fulton sounded highly amused, "Deep breaths and think of the Dean watering his flowerbeds. That should calm you down a bit."

            Portman whooped loudly into the cold air. "Who did it?" he yelled to the whole team skating around the ice. "Come on, own up. I wanna congratulate you, then pound you for not including me!"

Kenny laughed. "Like anyone's gonna admit to it _now_."

Portman slapped Kenny on the back, almost making him fall over. "Good point, Wu. Okay, okay," he placed his hand over his heart, "I swear I will do no harm to the Duck who did."

Everyone looked at each other but no one took the credit for the swap. 

Portman looked crestfallen. "Come on, guys, I gave you my word as a Bash Brother. I swear I won't hurt you."

"How do you know it was one of us?" Dwayne asked, pausing on the ice.

            "Come on, man," Charlie skated past him, turned around and grinned at the Texan, skating backwards down the ice. "It was a Duck trick! Who else would target the bastard's whistle? Who else could predict his reaction? And who else," he flung out his arms gestured around him, "in this preppy hell hole would dare?"

            He laughed and directed his voice out to the rest of the team, "That was priceless, whoever did it. So simple, yet so effective. Who was it, hey? Come on, you can tell your Captain. I swear I'll protect you from our resident pit bull over there," he gestured towards Portman and grinned at the large boy.

            Adam skated past him and brushed into the other boy. "I dunno, _Captain_," his voice was mocking, "prankings usually your expertise, isn't it?"

            Charlie didn't rise to the bait. He turned around and skated next to #99. "True, Banks. Someone's obviously after my title." He placed a hand on Adam's shoulder and leant towards him conspiratorially, his voice cold, "To tell you the truth, Banksie, _I_ would have done something slightly more flamboyant than exchanging whistles."

            Adam's eyes flashed angrily. "_Sure_ you would, Charlie."

            Charlie smiled wryly at him and touched his hand to his brow in a mock salute, "Whatever you want to believe, _Cake eater_." There was nothing friendly about his use of the familiar nickname. He picked up his speed and drew ahead of the other boy.

            Adam was about to say something cutting back to his Captain but, before the words could leave his lips, Reily returned.

            The whole team was immediately silent, waiting in dreadful anticipation for the Coach's reaction. Subconsciously, they picked up their speed until they were practically flying around the rink. The man waited for a few minutes, watching their progress silently.

            The Coach then raised the whistle he wore around his neck and blew a sharp, powerful blast. The noise was ear piercing and perfectly whistle like. The team looked at each other warily before skating over to the man.

            They knelt before him without being prompted. The man was silent for a few minutes, then he drew back his hand and flung another whistle down onto the ice, in amongst the Ducks, right in front of Charlie. There was so much power in his throw that he managed to chip a sizable piece of ice out of the rink.

            Charlie barely flinched as the whistle landed only a few inches from his knee. He watched as the ice shard spun crazily on the slippery surface and he reached out a hand and touched it, immediately halting its movement. He raised eyes and found the Coach glaring right back at him.

            "That whistle was put in my sports bag," Reily's voice was cold. "There are only a select number of people who know I even have a sports bag, and guess what?" He grinned, an abnormally wide grin which showed too many of his teeth for the team's comfort, "You guys are the majority of the chosen few. And that makes me extremely suspicious, especially as the culprit had a sense of humour as immature as some of you."

            Portman looked across at Fulton and couldn't suppress a grin.

            The Coach noticed. "You think this is funny, Portman? You find my anger amusing?"

            Portman looked at the man critically. "Well, now you mention it, sir, your nostrils do flare a little too much for me to take you entirely seriously."

            The look the Coach gave Portman could easily have been compared to that of an extremely angry shark.

            "Well done, Portman," he said softly. "You've just earned the entire team a detention." He glanced at Charlie, "That's three now, isn't it, Conway?"

            Charlie glowered at the man but kept silent.

            Reily turned to the rest of the Ducks. "And if you feel that _that_ is unfair, then you'll really begin to hate me now."

            The words "too late" passed through _every_ Duck's mind.

            "You see," his voice was calm, "if I don't know which one of you children owns that whistle," he gestured to the whistle on the ice, "then I guess I'll just have to punish you all." He paused, "Unless, of course, someone wants to escape punishment and tells me who did it?"

            No one moved. Adam's eyes flickered over to Charlie and took in the boy's angry frown but he kept perfectly still.

            "No?" the Coach sounded vaguely happy. "Continue with your laps then, children."

A/N     Did you enjoy? I know the whole whistle prank was a bit lame but I just cracked up when I thought of what Reily's reaction would be! Don't ask where Charlie got a whistle which farted _and_ looked exactly the same as the Coach's because I don't know. You'd just have to ask Charlie that one…

            I know what all the pranks are gonna be and, believe me, they're gooood! Wel, I think they are – you might think they suck but you'll have to wait and see! 

            *Jumps madly up and down* Go on! Pleeeeaaase review!

Adriana3: More Banks in this, so you should be happy : ) There'll be plenty more in the next chapters as well! Thanx for the review!

Cube: I sent you an email. You get it? There was something I had to ask you but… Oh no, I've got it. This isn't story related, just something that's been bothering me. How do the players get their specific numbers? Do they just choose them or what?? Thanks for the info – it's gonna help with an up and coming chapter. Also, thanks for being a continuous reviewer – means a lot!

Goldfish: You don't mind me shortening your name, do you *grins evilly*?? Banks: friend/hero/enemy (I think the last one has to be said in a low, foreboding voice) – you'll just have to wait and see *grins evilly again*. What is it with you that makes me want to continue grinning evilly? Do you get a lot of people grinning evilly at you? Your order me?? Oooo, I might get a little uptight if your name didn't suggest you were a goldfish! Hee hee! Love you really and, come to think of it, I do need people to order me to do stuff otherwise it never gets done – I'm such a lazy ass!

CakeEatersGirly: You are so nice! I mean that! Thank you for loving my story – makes me want to update just so you can read more! Hope this chapter came up to your expectations!

Chelsea: I don't really think you can use this prank on the girls who were bugging you unless they have some strange attachment to whistles… The gum on chair would probably work well – that'd get me pissed off no end! Yeah, I get uncomfortable with the whole intensity thing too. I can really annoy people when they try and be serious I just have to laugh to ease the tension! Ha ha! Serves them right for trying to be intense around me!

Cat: Tried to reduce spaces. Sorry if it bugged you. One of the good things about having them at the end though is that you can just grab the bar thing and drag it down. Thanx for reviewing especially if it took a long time to get to the end!  

Nellie: I won't be too harsh on Adam… well I'll try not to be (I am an angst writer after all)!! We're all adults here, well, nearly, and some times bad language is the only way to get your emotions across! I'm glad my story affected you so much that you felt the need to say a rude word!! Love you loads!

PlainJane: Yep *nods happily*, "sick, sadistic, schmuck" was exactly the character I was going for! You read 5 of my chapters in a row?!? Wow, that's perseverance for you! Thank you! It's very much appreciated. 4.30 is definitely a bad time – people _should_ be sleepybyes by then! I'm glad you're back too because you give me nice reviews! Merci beaucoup!

Chelsea my little Cabbage (hee hee): You do realise that your review took up a page and a half on Word? And before you think it, no I don't copy them and save them or anything strangely freaky like that, I transfer them to Word so I can reply to them without having to be online! What a clever duckling I am! You seem to have far too much geography to do! "Customised CD"? *raises eyebrow* Is that legal?!?  Sod this – I'm gonna send you an email direct because I simply have too much to say to you! It might be a bit odd though because you might read my email before you read this so you might get confuddled…

Anne918: Silly Sophie! *slaps self round head* I just assumed your name was Anne because of your ff.net name. It isn't!! It's Gina! No I'm not some mad stalker, I am, in fact a member of a yahoo group you joined – don't know which one precisely, I'm joined to so many. I just use the facilities, ie. Pictures, without writing anything. I should maybe think of contributing to the community some more. So I'm sorry, _Gina_, for calling you Anne. Why is your sign-in name Anne?? Or is that being too nosy?? Thanks for reviewing!


	10. Slush!

A/N     Whoa, this chapter took me a while! I kinda started this the day after I last posted but then I got distracted and put it off. I can't believe I've made you guys all wait two weeks for this! I'm sorry! Will you forgive me?!?

            This chapter is a bit different from the others. It consists of a lot of mini chapters I suppose. I was half-thinking of posting just the first bit up a week ago but I thought it was too short so I decided I'd go in for the long haul!

            As before, I'm gonna put Kate's reply here. Everyone else just skip – unless you're nosy and feel it necessary to read!

Kate:    I know! I know! Charlie is SO majorly hot in the third one! He is my fave after all! I think I replied to your plot idea in an email. You get? It's awesome and yet, at the same time, majorly sick and twisted – just my kind of fic! Banks is cool, I know, but nowhere near as fit as Charlie! Have you seen the nose on that fellow? Wow! I'm sorry about your socks *grins* I would offer to go and collect them but that would take at least one HUGE plane journey! You have a Coach Reily voodoo doll? Wow – gotta get myself one of those!  Great idea!  =)

I would like to dedicate this chapter to Ice Cube as it is because of her that I am able to sound like I have some clue as to what is going on in the world of hockey. By the way, for all you non-hockey buffs out there, a "zamboni" is the thing that Fulton, Jesse and Guy (is it?) drive into the wall in D2. See – I know these things now thanks to the awesomeness of Cube!!  

            Enjoy!

"Charlie!"

Charlie ignored Adam as he unlocked the door and walked stiffly into their dormroom. Charlie shoved the door closed but Adam caught it before it could shut properly and pushed it open, following Charlie into the room.

"Charlie, listen to me!"

Charlie didn't respond. He went to the desk and gathered up a couple of books. He grabbed his rucksack and shoved them into it, then he zipped it up, and slung it on his back.

He turned around and stalked across the room again to the door, his intention to leave, but Adam stepped skilfully into his way, effectively barring the one exit.

"Get out my way, Banks," Charlie said through gritted teeth.

"No," Adam's voice was stubbornly strong. "You've been avoiding me since the practice. You are going to listen to what I've got to say."

"Why should I?" Charlie asked, callously. He attempted to shove past Adam but the boy was taller than him and held firm.

"Because I know it was you."

Charlie looked up at the boy and scowled. "You don't know anything."

"Yes, I do," Adam was adamant. "You were the one who swapped that whistle, you did it after breakfast when you said you had to go and collect your skates. Your skates were up here all the time, weren't they, Charlie?"

"Piss off, Cake Eater."

Adam gritted his teeth. "No, Charlie. You're gonna tell me why you're doing this, and, more importantly, why you aren't including the Ducks in it."

Charlie shot the other boy a look of hatred. "It's none of your business, Banks. You gave up the right to question me about my actions when you gave up being my friend." He tried to shove past Adam again, more forcefully this time.

Adam grabbed his shoulders and pushed him angrily back into the room. "You made it my business, Conway," he said, breathing heavily, "when you got the whole team punished. Or did you, in your own self-centred way, think you were the only one skating round that rink for an hour and a half?"

Charlie winced as he rubbed the two painful spots where Adam had grabbed him, looking at the other boy in unconcealed surprise. "No, I didn't," he said, quietly, "but it couldn't be helped." 

"Couldn't be helped?" Adam laughed harshly. "What – you've got a whistle swapping addiction or something?"

"Fuck you, Banks."

Adam's eyes flashed. "I don't think you've fully realised the consequences of your actions, Spazway. Not only is the whole team hurting and exhausted from this morning, but we've also all got a detention _and_, worst of all, Reily's gonna give us hell tomorrow morning. Or did you think that he'd sleep on it and forgive us all?" Adam's voice was incredulous. "It's Saturday tomorrow and that means he's got us for a whole extra hour. Can you imagine what he can do to us in that time span?" 

The boy took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself down. "Look, Charlie," he locked eyes with his Captain, "all I'm saying is that I bloody well hope you've got a good reason for all this…" he paused, "…and I'd wish you'd tell me what it is."

Charlie ran his hand through his curly hair and locked eyes with the centre forward, "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

Charlie's eyes flickered to the clock on the wall. "I can't. I've got detention in five minutes." He moved to the door again and stood in front of the taller boy. "Please get out of the way, Adam," he said quietly, gazing resolutely past the other boy, down the corridor.

Adam looked at the younger boy and sighed. He moved across from the door and Charlie brushed past him. Before Charlie could leave, however, Adam put out a hand and grabbed his upper arm.

"I'm worried about you, Charlie," he said, quietly, his eyes full of concern.

Charlie shrugged his hand off. "Don't be," he said, shortly.  "I can look after myself." 

He slung the rucksack further up his back and made his way down the corridor, not once looking back at Adam, who stood in the doorway, watching his Captain depart.

"Conway, Charles?"

"Here, sir," Charlie slid into his seat.

The short professor, raised his head and took in the boy's messy figure with bespectacled eyes, nodded curtly, and continued with the detention role call.

Charlie sighed and sank lower in his chair. He glanced at the clock: it seemed an awfully long time till 6 pm when he would be released. He sighed again, picked up his rucksack from its position on the floor and emptied the contents out onto his desk.

At least detention wasn't too bad here at Eden Hall, he thought idly as he sorted out his textbooks. It was, in reality, just like extra prep time. 

I could almost thank Reily with the amount of homework I have to do, he thought to himself and grinned, imagining the Coach's expression if he did just that.

 It was true that Charlie could do with the enforced extra prep time. He had a lot of chemistry to do and he had some maths which he could do. He knew that if he got it done in detention then he'd have a lot less to do at the weekend.

If I'm still alive to enjoy the weekend after the practice, he thought miserably to himself. Banks had been right about what was going to happen to them on Saturday. Though it was hockey season, their nearest match was still a way off so the Coach would be free to dedicate all of their two and a half hour practice to laps or something even worse.

Even with the idea of the hell they would be going through the next morning, Charlie still didn't regret the whistle prank. It had felt so good to get the Coach back, give _him_ a taste of humiliation for a change. He did feel bad for the other Ducks, having to go through the punishment for him, but he knew they wouldn't mind if they _did_ know it was him so he reasoned with his conscience that they wouldn't mind if they didn't.  

He flipped open his chemistry book and stared blankly at page 168, trying to force his mind to take the information in. His lack of concentration was understandable really. Chemistry was an extremely boring subject. 

When he had opted to do it as an option he had imagined a lot of big bangs and dangerous acids which would burn holes in you if you even looked at them. He could not have been more wrong. The reality consisted of a lot of maths and the _theory_ behind the experiments instead of the experiments themselves. The most dangerous chemical they had been allowed to use was _dilute_ hydrochloric acid, a liquid that's only highpoint was the fact that it could burn holes in stockings.

Charlie chuckled to himself, as he reminisced of that wonderful day when he, Averman, Julie, Guy and Ken, the only Ducks who took Chemistry, had discovered that wonderful property of the acid. There had not been one girl who had escaped that lesson without their tights in ruins. 

Oh, good times, Charlie thought happily to himself. Times before Reily joined the school. He sighed again and returned to the book and the page.

He grabbed a piece of lined paper and scrawled the title: "The Freezing, Solidifying and Melting Points of Different Substances." He reread the title, grimaced, and looked disgustedly at the clock – it hadn't moved at all. He decided to resign himself to the work, knowing that the time would go even slower if he procrastinated. He focused on the printed words of page 168 and began reading.

He was about half way down when he stopped. He grabbed the book off his desk and leaned back in his chair, reading a paragraph again, more closely this time. He placed the book down and grinned widely. 

Suddenly, the prospect of tomorrow and the weekend in general looked a lot brighter. 

He settled back to work and began writing the answers to the questions eagerly, now and again casting sly glances at the clock, unable to keep the grin off of his face.

The alarm went off. Charlie blearily opened one eye and then shut it again. He rolled over and thumped the persistent machine. It shut up. Charlie smiled and nuzzled down into his pillow.

"Up, Charlie. You don't want to be late for _this_ practice."

Charlie groaned and shoved his pillow over his head. "Go'way, Banks," he muttered. 

Adam made his way into the bathroom. Charlie promptly went back to sleep.

Someone was shaking him. Shaking him hard. He opened his eyes, saw who it was, and groaned again.

"Up _now_, Captain." Adam moved away from the boy and opened the curtains, allowing the bright morning sunshine to shine into the room and, intentionally, directly onto Charlie's bed. Charlie moaned and threw his arms over his head, shielding his sensitive eyes from the harsh light. "You'll thank me for this once you've returned to your right mind," Adam said, sounding smug.

"Would you just bloody well go away, Cake Eater?" Charlie croaked, wishing for what felt like the hundredth time that he didn't share rooms with Adam. The boy's habit of waking up early was bad enough on good days, but, now that they had fallen out, his behaviour was a complete torment to his Captain. "It's not like there's gonna be a practice."

"What?" Adam moved to Charlie's side and looked down at him critically.

Charlie didn't reply.

 "What do you mean there isn't going to be a practice?" Adam pressed.

Charlie groaned one last time and sat up, his hair even more tousled from sleep. "What?" he asked blearily.

"You said there wasn't going to be a practice." Adam was getting impatient. He'd had enough of Charlie's games.

"Did I?" the boy looked puzzled. "Must have been a dream." He got up and stretched. "Sorry to disappoint you, Banksie," he smiled wryly at the other boy. "Nothing's gonna save us from Reily today."

Adam looked at the boy and nodded curtly. "You're right." He didn't bother mentioning whose fault that was. "Jesus, man, you sleep like a dead man who's been overworked and drugged up with sleeping pills."

Charlie nodded his head in agreement, "But only because I'm up half the night having to listen to your snores."

"You're kidding me, right?" Adam sounded indignant. "I don't snore!"

"You wanna bet?" Charlie grinned, annoyingly. He strode across the room in his boxers and pulled open his sock drawer. He rooted around until he found what he was looking for, then pulled out a black box with a wire attached to a microphone dangling from it. "I'll get proof!"

"What the hell is that?"

"A bugging device. I've been led to believe it's very high-tech and can pick up just about anything. I doubt I'll have any problems with your snores though as they almost take the roof off!"

Adam paused, raised one eyebrow and gave the other boy a strange look. "Why do _you_ have a listening device?"

"Please, Adam!" Charlie snapped. "I'm morally hurt by the implications of that statement. Give your overactive and twisted imagination a break would you?"

Adam held up his hands defensively, "Well, why else would you have it then?"

Charlie scowled and shoved the device, unceremoniously, back into his sock drawer. "If you gotta know, that jerk my mom married and who likes me to call him "Dad"," his voice was mocking, "gave it to me." 

He crossed the room and picked up his trousers from the floor where he had thrown them last night. He shoved one leg into them, "I don't mind if he wants to try and buy my affection but I'd appreciate it if he didn't give me a present suitable for a 5 year old wannabe spy. I'm a hockey player, for Christ's sake!"

Adam grinned, mockingly, "So predictable, Charlie." He looked up at the clock and sighed, "I'll see you downstairs. You'll want to hurry up and get dressed otherwise you won't have time for breakfast."

Charlie scowled and waved him away, "You just worry about your own life, yeah, Banks? I can take care of myself and my own stomach."

"Amen to that," Adam muttered audibly as he made his way out of the room. He ducked a misguided trainer and looked back at the affronted Charlie.

"I resent that remark!"

Adam chuckled, nastily, "Good job you're a hockey player, Spazway. I'd hate to have to watch you attempt your hand at baseball."

Charlie picked up his remaining trainer and aimed, hard, for Adam's head. The missile missed totally, hitting a lamp on the shelf by the door. Charlie could hear Adam's mocking laughter receeding down the corridor.   

He went to the door and yelled after him, "I meant to do that!"

He returned to the privacy of their room and grabbed a t-shirt, pulling it roughly over his head. Then he retrieved both shoes and pulled them on.

"Stuck up cake eater," he muttered under his breath, before making his way down to the breakfast hall.  

The mood around the half-deserted breakfast table was sombre. Charlie sat down and began shovelling warm waffles half heartedly into his mouth. He was only half through his generous portion when he put his fork down, his stomach already uncomfortably full.

"Where's Russ?" he looked around the table. "And Guy and the Bash Bros?" He directed his question to Julie, who was sitting across from him. 

"On their way to the changing rooms probably." She glanced at her watch, "How come you're so late?" she asked.

"Couldn't find my shoes."

Adam snorted as he walked by, having caught Charlie's last remark.

Julie watched the blond boy make his way out of the double doors before turning back to Charlie with concern visible in her eyes, "How's it going between you and Banksie?"

Charlie shrugged. "We've come to an agreement."

"How so?"

"I chuck things."

"What?" she was obviously confused.

"Doesn't matter." He looked down at her nearly full tray. "You finished?"

She looked down, startled at the amount of food still on her plate, "Yeah, I guess so. I'm not really very hungry this morning."

Charlie laughed shortly, "Yeah, I guess I can sympathise. Come on," he got up, "let's go and put our trays away."

They returned to the table and Charlie bent down to talk to Luis about the hockey result from the previous night. He had missed it because of his detention and he hadn't bothered asking Banks.

Suddenly, the double doors banged open and Guy, Russ, Fulton and Portman ran in, closely followed by Adam who was going at a slightly more respectable pace. Charlie stood up and looked at the excited Ducks with one eyebrow raised.

"And what's got you guys so excited?" he asked wryly. "Did Reily die?"

Portman halted in front of his Captain and grinned wickedly, "No, but it's something almost as good!" he crowed loudly.

"What?"

"The ice rink, dude," Fulton cut across his fellow Bash Bro, excitedly. "You should see it. It's like… nonexistent!"

"Come on, Fulton. Make sense!" Connie obviously wasn't buying any of it. "What? Someone blew up the ice house?" her voice was heavily sarcastic.

"No seriously!" Guy looked like he was verging on hysteria, jumping up and down excitedly. "It's amazing! The ice – it's gone!"

"Have you guys been drinking?" Ken looked at them strangely.

Portman growled. "No!" he snapped. He cracked his knuckles threateningly. "If you just listen to what we're saying…"

"Guys, chill!" Russ held up his hands, stopping the argument before it could turn nasty. He turned to Charlie. "What my inarticulate friends are trying to tell you is the truth. The ice _has_ gone! It's melted! The rink is flooded with water!"

There was silence.

"You're kidding us, right?" Luis' voice was strangely weak.

Fulton shook his head happily. "No joke! Come and see it for yourself!"

The Ducks all looked at each other. Suddenly, there was uproar, as all the team got up from the table and ran across the hall, all attempting to push out of the double doors at once. 

They ran madly across the campus, whooping noisily and ignoring the complaints of other Eden Hall residents as they shoved past them in their haste. They all piled into the ice rink building and ran until they reached the stands.

There was a silence as all of them took in the scene before them. The rink wasn't entirely water, but the broken slush, which took the place of the normally smooth ice, certainly ruled out any skating. Two janitors were staring, aghast, at the scene in front of them, not understanding what had happened and the driver of the zamboni, the guy whose sole job was the upkeep of the rink, was actually standing in the icy mush, his eyes wide with disbelief.

All the Ducks looked at each other and then burst out laughing.

A hand fell heavily on Averman's shoulder and he turned around. The transformation of his expression, one from complete hilarity to terror, was almost comical as he looked up into the eyes of his Coach.

Reily raised his whistle and blew three short, sharp blasts. The Ducks were all immediately silent. They slowly turned around until they were face to face with their angry Coach.

"And what do you all find so funny?" the man asked, softly.

No one dared answer. They all looked at the ground, unwilling to look him directly in the eye. The man didn't expect an answer, so they sure as hell weren't going to give him one.

"As you can see," Reily continued in the same soft tone, "there's been a little mishap."

He turned his head and glanced at the rink before turning back to the Ducks, eyes narrowed. "Unfortunately, the nature of the mishap means that I will have to cancel today's practice. This pains me, as I had certain," he smiled, thinly, "_new _exercises for you all to try."

The Ducks glanced at each other nervously, all of them having no difficulties imagining what the Coach meant by "_new_ exercises".

The Coach was silent for a moment. Then he barked, "Get out of here!" making the majority of the teenagers jump.

They scrambled around and made a mad dash for the door, all wanting to get out of the Coach's sight before he changed his mind and decided they could _still_ practice, even without the ice.

Reily watched them go, a cruel smile etched on his features. He turned and smoothly made his way down to what had formally been the ice. He bent and touched the freezing slush, then scooped out some on his gloved hand. He brought it to his nose and sniffed. Nothing. He flicked out his tongue and tasted it. 

_Salt_, he thought grimly to himself. So this was intentional, was it?

He glanced after the way the Ducks had retreated and narrowed his piercing blue eyes.

A/N     Would you believe it? There was point in me doing Chemistry!! Not only does Hydrochloric acid rock! (Yes, I did do that with the tights *evil grin*) But I can also work my knowledge into my Mighty Ducks Fic – how great is that?!

            I am extremely apologetic for how long this took and the sad thing is that it'll probably take me a long time for the next chapter too because I have some big exams coming up! Damn it!

            By the way, for anyone confused at the relationship of Charlie and Adam at the mo, here it is – just to make it clearer. Charlie feels betrayed by Adam and so refuses to be his friend. Adam is hurt by this and wishes Charlie would still be his chum. However, the blond lad is getting annoyed with his captain at his apparent insensitiveness towards getting the team in trouble by, what Adam sees as, pointless pranks. He does not know why Charlie has resorted to this tactic but feels there might be a reason and so gets even angrier when Charlie refuses to tell him.

            So vaguely complicated but aren't all relationships??   

            Please review! I love it when you do! Do you think I can break 100 this time?? *squeals excitedly* Yay! Hope I can! 

Review blurb… This is gonna take a while due to the amount of reviews I got for the last chapter! *sighs happily* Love you all!

Ice Cube: As I said, I formally dedicate this chapter to you! I hope you liked it! Thank you for the info – as ever, you rock! What happens when someone has the same number as you when you transfer? Do you have to change, even if you're really famous and everyone knows you by that number??

Goldfish: Antichrist hey? Let's just pretend you are because that means I know someone famous! Hee hee! I'll attempt to not mess up regular Adam. I like the dude too and I find it vaguely depressing when he's trying to kill himself and all… I'm sorry that you demanded and I ignored – well I didn't ignore as such, it just took a while!

Percussion: Hello new reviewer! An Adam/Charlie fight with the encouragement of Reily? I'm intrigued… It probably won't fit into the storyline I've got planned at the mo but if it changes and it does – I'll give you the credit! You don't like Charlie!?! Noooo! But he's so adorable! It was pretty harsh what he did in D3 but still… He's so cute! I'm gonna have to try and change your mind with this story! Mind you – he is coming off as a tad insensitive at the mo… Damn it!

Adriana3: Wow – I got like three reviews from you in one night! I was well impressed! I'm so sorry that I haven't been updating more! I really should but I never seem to have the time! I'll try for you, I promise! Yeah, about the whole Love and Hate… I was a little over optimistic about my free time when I posted it – God! I can hardly keep one fic going, let alone two! Therefore, it's discontinued at the mo but it will be started up again just as soon as this one is over! Thank you for reading it! It makes me happy when people do because it has fewer fans than this one!

CakeEater'sGirly – Katie: I hope the explanation in the second A/N helped you with the Adam/Charlie relationship – it is pretty confusing! Thank you for liking the whistle prank! I liked it too! Again – I am ashamed! I did not hurry up and update. You may feel free to slap me…

Chelsea (rock&roll): Your review made me laugh! Yep – it's sad to admit it but farting noises make me laugh to. I had this great image of you being there with Averman… Odd, hey? Zero is so cute in Holes and so is Squid… but ZigZag?!? Don't really see where you're coming from with that one, hee hee!

CakeEater'sGirly – Joc: Phenomenal hey? Wow – that makes me feel special! I want a farting whistle too! Would be faintly amusing! Thank you for reviewing!

Sloane Miette: Are you yelling at me? *sniff* I don't like it when people yell at me… I'm sorry I took so long. Hopefully this prank was slightly more refined for your tastes *grins* - I was pretty impressed with it myself. And yeah, you're right, the whistle prank wasn't much more than cute… Ah well, anything goes in my story!

Flat*Out*Crazy: Well, they were gonna get punished bad but well… this sort of happened. Don't worry! I'm working my way up to it! Ohh, it's gonna be full of angsty goodness! Can't wait! Whistle happy PE teacher, hey? I should introduce her to mine – then they could just blow whistles at each other all day long…

Chelsea my little cabbage: I feel that someone might have had a little too much sugar the last time she reviewed? Hmmm? Ha ha! You should do it again! It's fun to read! Dr Pepper out the nose? Wow – gotta be painful! Your poor keyboard?! Is it ok? I would just like to say that I can't believe you serenaded me! Wow! That's taking reviewing to a whole new level! 100? Wow – I am immensely proud of you! Obviously not just a great fan fic writer then hey? That gal's got brains! 

BanksieBabe (I got really confused when I saw that name by the way! Ha – I'm dumb!): That has got to be the nicest review anyone has ever done for me… You read my story more than once? Wow! I love you so much! Highlight of your life?? I feel so special! Thank you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much!

Gina (see, Sophie learns!): Hey! I thought that too! Once upon a time! It explains my email being "SOP222222" I figured that that was so significantly different from "Sophie" that I was safe! Meh! I was a tad silly, non?? As you write nice Charlie bits in your story for me, I'm writing Adam and Charlie conflicts for you! They are well fun to write!!

xoMEGSxo: Yay! Your back! Sophie is happy! Sophie missed you! Thank you for reviewing my story even when you were tired! That makes me feel happy and wanted! *beams happily* I hope you aren't tired this time around – that would be just too weird!!

Angelfury: Again, I apologize for not updating sooner! I feel really bad! I should go and sit in the corner… I'll do that later, otherwise I won't be able to post this and that would be even worse! Whistle prank was ingenious? Wow! Thanks *blushes* that's really nice!!  


	11. Broken Cups and Mended Understandings

A/N     Wow! I updated! Even though I'm in the middle of mocks! Whoo hoo! The amount of revision I'm meant to be doing at the moment just isn't funny! I'm dealing with it by ignoring it and writing my new chapter! MWAHAHAHA! I'm such a rebel, non? Mocks are really stupid anyway! They're just a practice for the "real things" in the summer but my school is taking them bloody seriously so everyone else is going with the flow. It's so unbelievably pointless!

            Anyway – my chapter. I've realised that my chapters are becoming more and more in depth as I go along. This one took seven pages can you believe!? And there are only two scenes!

Kate: I was seriously worried that you weren't going to review! I was like "Oh my God! Has Kate died in a random and unexplained Act of God?" But no! Here you are! Yay! You write chapter notes? Wow that's organised! I'm more of a "hmmm, what pain do I feel like inflicting today" sorta girl. Can't wait to see it up! Can we see the difference between living in England and living in Canada? You make snowballs in August and know about ice hockey, whereas I know about cricket! Oooh the thrills of life! Seriously – England has some majorly boring sports! Apart from rugby! That's very fun and dangerous! I'm sorry that you were confused – I won't explain it to you now because hopefully this chapter will put it all straight. And the whole stepdad thing – I hadn't mentioned it before but I thought that it wouldn't be a subject that Charlie talked about much! Charlie on top hmm? Wow – that's incentive for you! Much better than a cherry! 

            I broke 100 hundred reviews! Thank you so much, all you great and lovely people who constantly make my day by reviewing! I love you all! This is dedicated to all of you just to show how much I appreciate you all!

When Reily stormed into the staffroom on the Saturday morning, all discussions stopped.

Reily wasn't hated by any of the other faculty at Eden Hall, but he wasn't exactly popular either. He didn't join in with the other teachers' discussions and he made no effort to seem friendly or welcoming. The others all had a certain respect for the large, muscular man; a respect bordering on discomfort and wariness.

They nodded to him in a gesture of welcome but he ignored them, striding resolutely to the coffee machine and pouring himself a cup of strong, black coffee, not bothering to offer one to anyone else.

There were fewer staff at the school, of course, on Saturday. Some stayed in the faculty quarters of the college all year round, it spared them the expense of a property in the easy reach of Eden Hall – it was a _very_ upper-class area, but most only stayed the working week, making the long haul back to their homes at the weekend. Many of the teachers residing in the staffroom _did_ have homes to go to but, instead, they were stuck with babysitting duties. 

The drama of the melted ice rink was a welcome distraction from the usual tedium of marking and trying to keep teenaged students in some order.

The teachers looked at each other, all dying to probe the Coach for any unheard gossip. After all, if anyone knew about the status of the ice rink it would be he.

Miss Wood, the English teacher, hesitantly cleared her throat, "This must be a real pain in the ass for you, John."

Reily turned and raised an eyebrow.

"You know… the ice rink," the woman wiltered under the man's penetrating stare. "I thought, it being hockey season and everything, that you'd be wanting your team to practice."

Reily slowly took a long draft of his coffee, then he smiled. "Don't worry, Miss Woods, the ice rink will be back in no time. I'll soon have the Ducks playing their game up to _my_ standards."

The English teacher smiled, glad that the man had responded. She grew bolder and leant forward in her seat, conspiratorially. "What happened with the ice rink? We heard that it was intentional. Is it true?"

The Coach nodded slowly, his eyes flashing. "Yes. The ice rink was vandalised. Someone added salt to the water stored in the tank in the Zamboni."

"Very clever," Mr Trodd, the Chemistry teacher, spoke up. "Whoever did it would have to have some knowledge of hockey to know the fundaments of the machine. Do you have any idea who it was?"

The Coach laughed, harshly, "If it was any other prank I would have blamed the JV hockey team. As it is, I think that there was a certain amount of intelligence required to execute such a plan." He laughed again, "Never overestimate the intelligence of the Ducks."

The rest of the teachers all joined in with the joke. Mr Trodd, however, didn't join in with the laughter and just shook his head, angrily. Once the general mirth had died down, he spoke up in the Ducks defence.

"You're wrong. I have several members of your team in my chemistry class and they all show potential, though they do tend to mess around a bit." 

The teachers looked at the quiet man in uncomfortable astonishment. They didn't know how the Coach would react to being told he was wrong and they gave the small teacher inconspicuous, meaningful glances to shut up, but he continued, ignoring them. 

"And you're wrong about the need for intelligence to pull off such a stunt as the one on the ice rink, too. That salt reduces the freezing point of water is rudimentary knowledge. Just go and ask my sophomore class, we've just finished the chapter."

And with that he gathered up his books and excused himself quietly. He made his way out of the heavy and tense atmosphere in the staffroom and walked down the corridor, on his way to the labs. He had not got more than half way before a rough hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks. He turned and looked up into a pair of blazing blue eyes.

"Your sophomore chemistry class? Exactly which members of my team are in it?" Reily asked, his voice as hard as flint.

The small man blanched, realising what he had done. "I told you that adding salt to water was rudimentary knowledge," he said hurriedly. "Anyone living anywhere it gets cold will know that they add salt to the roads to melt the ice. Minnesota is one of those places. Anyone in the school could have done it, not just the five Ducks in my chemistry class."

Reily was prevented from shaking the irritating man by the coffee he still held. Instead he dismissed the other man's words with a wave of his hand.

"The chapter that you said that your class had just finished? It did include the freezing point of water, didn't it?"

Mr Trodd nodded, dismally.

"I thought so. Now," he paused and smiled unpleasantly, "which Ducks did you say were in the class?"

Mr Trodd shook his head, slowly, "I didn't. I'm not going to tell you unless you swear that you won't make any rash assumptions."

"Rash assumptions?!" Reily moved closer to the other man. The chemistry teacher backed up, his eyes wide, until he hit the whitewashed wall and he had nowhere else to go. Reily pushed forwards however, until he was mere inches from the small man. "Don't lecture me about rash assumptions! I know my hockey team. If you don't tell me then I'll just have to go and ask the school secretary and that certainly will not help my temper one little bit. Now, you were saying?" 

Mr Trodd craned his neck backwards until he could look directly into the other man's face. He held Reily's piercing gaze for a few seconds before looking away. 

"Ken Wu."

Reily moved slightly away from the chemistry teacher, his threatening posture not needed now that the man was cooperating. He shook his head, knowing full well that Wu wouldn't have the guts to take such a stand against him.

"Not him. Who else?"

Mr Trodd hesitated, then, "Julie Gaffney."

Reily doubted it. Gaffney had the intellectual mind and the guts but he knew that, at heart, she was a good girl.

"Who else?"

"Lester Averman."

Reily didn't understand Averman. The boy was an anomaly with a strange sense of humour. The Coach knew that he was terrified of him but he didn't know how the boy coped with his fear. Maybe he was one of those kids who only became brave when pushed into a corner.

Somehow, though, Reily just couldn't imagine Averman being such a person. He seemed so… transparent – someone who couldn't hide his emotions at all.

But he was a possibility. And if it was him, he would take great pleasure in crushing the idiot.

"And?"

"Guy Germaine."

Another possibility. Though he was very quiet and seemed to have little confidence, the boy held quite a hit on the ice. The Coach knew that, often, how someone played gave a hint of their real identity.

"The last?"

"Charlie Conway."

There was a tense silence, then **CRUNCH**…

Mr Trodd looked down at the source of the noise, the Coach's large right hand, and gasped in astonishment. The man had physically _crushed_ the porcelain coffee cup he had been holding with his bare hand! The Chemistry teacher looked quickly up into the man's face and flinched when he saw the unparalleled rage flashing in the man's icy blue eyes.

"Conway, you say?" the man said, heedless of the hot coffee running down his hand and pooling on the floor.

The Coach's calm, pleasant tone terrified the poor teacher even more. He didn't reply to the question but it seemed as if Reily didn't need him to. The large man turned stiffly around and walked away, his fists clenching and unclenching in a very disturbing way.

Mr Trodd watched him go. When the Coach disappeared around the corner, he slumped against the wall, exhausted from the confrontation. He was not as young as he used to be and his poor heart was thumping dully in his chest. He clutched the books he was holding firmly to his breast for comfort and thought worriedly of what actions his words would incite John Reily to.

I must warn Charlie, he thought, panicked. I don't know what the man's going to do but I'd wager my life that it's not going to be pleasant.

The door banged loudly open. Charlie jumped and looked up from the piece of paper he was writing on. The figure, standing in the doorway, stormed across the dorm room and stopped angrily in front of Charlie, hands on his hips, staring furiously down at the boy. 

"It was you, wasn't it?" he spat.

"What are you talking about, Banks?"

"The ice rink! This morning you said that there wasn't going to be a practice and then, by some freak act of God, the ice rink melts? I don't think it's a coincidence, somehow!" the boy near enough yelled.

Charlie got up from the floor, calmly picked up the piece of paper and the marker pen and moved to his bedside table, opened the drawer and dropped it in. Then he turned back to Adam.

"Maybe I'm psychic," he said, totally innocently.

"Don't give me that! You forget that I know you, _Captain_! That innocence routine won't work with me!" Adam hissed.

"Whoa, Banksie, _chill_ man!" Charlie held up his hands defensively, incredulous at the change in the centre forward. "If you're gonna yell at least have the decency to shut the door first. As you're talking to me and _I_ don't wanna hear you, I'm doubting that everyone else in Minnesota wants to either."

The other boy's eyes glinted and he chuckled, nastily, "Scared the Coach will hear me, Charlie? Scared that he'll find out?"

Charlie brushed past Adam, walked the few steps to the door and shut it. "What are you talking about, Cake Eater?"

"I don't know why you're doing this but it's obviously to piss Reily off!"

"Really? Are you sure I'm not doing this to piss _you_ off, Banksie? It seems to be working pretty well so far, I've gotta admit."

"You talk a load of bullshit, Conway!"

"Cake Eater, you really need to get your panties untwisted and cool down. Maybe then we can have an adult conversation _without_ any profanities."

"Why are you doing this, Charlie? Hmm? Does it give you a buzz to get the rest of us in trouble? Do you get off on seeing the Coach angry?"

Charlie grimaced in disgust, "Don't be sick!"

Adam grinned, "Seems I've maybe hit on something there. What do you two _really_ get up to when he calls you to his office? Does he teach you how to handle your stick better? Do you like a man who has authority?"

"Take that fucking back, Banks!" Charlie yelled.

"Who's swearing now?" Adam asked, triumphantly.

There was silence. Charlie looked at the other boy, hurt, desperation and anger in his eyes, but he didn't reply. Instead, he moved to his bed and lay on it, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Adam looked at him concerned, the anger, which had been steadily building up, dying before he had said any of the things he had been planning on saying. He sat on his own bed and stared across at the other boy.

"Tell me, Charlie," he spoke softly, quietly. "Tell me what the hell is the point of messing with the Coach's mind? He'll only get angry, you know that. You said that you wanted out, that you wanted to leave the Ducks. What I don't understand is, if you hate him so much, why don't you?"

Charlie turned his head and looked Adam directly in the eyes. "You wouldn't understand."

Adam was frustrated. "You said that to me last time! I _want_ to understand but I can't if you won't tell me!"

Charlie was silent.

Adam looked at him, pleadingly, "What harm can you telling me do? Maybe I can help you."

Charlie shook his head, "You wouldn't be able to. If I told you, you'd only feel guilty or sorry for me."

"So it's the famous Spazway pride is it?" Adam grinned.

"I said you wouldn't understand."

"Jesus Christ, Charlie, that was a joke!" He paused. "What did you mean that _I_'d feel guilty?" he asked, puzzled.

"Nothing."  

"Charlie, you've really got to work on your excuses. Are you staying here because of me? That doesn't make any sense!"

"I told you it was nothing, Banks. Just leave me alone."

"It's not gonna happen, Spazway."

"Please?!" Charlie asked, his voice breaking. He picked up his pillow and shoved it over his head, shutting Adam out.

"Charlie…?"

"Just go away!" Charlie yelled, his voice muffled through the pillow.

"I'm not just gonna leave you like this! It's not…"

Adam was disturbed by a quiet knock on the door. He got up slowly and looked at Charlie, "If it's for you, do you…?"

Charlie shook his head under the pillow. Adam nodded and moved to the door. He opened it and was surprised to find himself face to face with a man he recognised as Charlie's chemistry teacher.

"Erm…" the man looked uncomfortable and worried. "Banks, is it?"

Adam nodded, resigned to the fact that people he had never met before knew his name through the Ducks' games.

"Good good, erm…" the man looked behind him, anxiously. "Is Charlie there?"

"He's asleep."

"Oh… oh dear… erm…" the man looked distraught at the news.

"Can I give him a message?" Adam asked, worried at the man's distracted behaviour.

The man's face brightened. "Oh yes. What a splendid idea! Erm…" he paused, as if at a loss for words. "Could you just tell him that I think your Coach suspects that it was him who melted the icerink? He got suspicious when I let slip that our chemistry class had just finished chapter 8 – Charlie will know which one that is. He asked me which team members were in my class and when I said Charlie he… erm… he broke a cup."

Adam raised an eyebrow.

"He broke it with his bare hands," Mr Trodd said, in way of explanation.

Adam swallowed and glanced back at Charlie. The boy had removed the pillow and was staring in shock at the ceiling. He had obviously heard every word.

"I'll warn Charlie, don't worry."

"Splendid boy! Just… just tell him I'm sorry and that I told Coach Reily not to do anything rash." He frowned, worriedly, "I don't know if he actually listened, though." He sighed and nervously pushed his spectacles up his nose and leaned towards Adam, speaking quietly, "I'm worried about what he might do to Charlie in the state he was in. He's got quite a temper on him. Tell the boy to stay away from him, will you?"

"I'll make it very clear."

"Good good. Well, thank you, young man," he smiled, feeling that an enormous burden had been lifted, "I won't keep you any longer. Your help is very much appreciated. Just, for God's sake, remember to tell Charlie."

"I will, don't worry."

The small man nodded curtly and left. 

Adam took a deep breath and shut the door. He leaned against it for a moment before turning and looking at Charlie's prone figure. He walked towards the other boy's bed and sat down.

They were both silent for a moment, both ingesting the information.

"He broke a fucking cup?"

Adam nodded, silently.

Charlie grinned weakly, "I suppose it makes a difference if it was a real one or a polystyrene one. Not much force needed to break those shitty polystyrene ones." He nodded, "I'm hoping it was one of those. How could anyone break a normal mug with his bare hands anyway? It's impossible, right, Banks?"

He looked at the other boy for reassurance, but Adam had none to give. They both knew that Mr Trodd wouldn't have walked all the way to the dorms to tell them that Reily had broken a polystyrene cup.

"Shit," Charlie's voice wavered. "I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

Adam looked at the other boy and nodded.   

Charlie looked at the ceiling again, "I could be at home at this very moment rather than being terrified by my sadistic hockey Coach. Why the fuck I am still here?" he asked, angrily scrubbing his hand across his eyes, wiping away the moisture forming there.

"I don't know. Why are you?" Adam asked, quietly.

Charlie looked at him, resignedly, "You do realise, of course, that you're taking advantage of the moment?"

"Of course," Adam said and grinned at the other boy. "But I like to think of it as comforting."

"I really hate you, Cake Eater. You know that, I suppose?"

"Yeah, I know," Adam said, softly, knowing that the boy's words, though said jokily, had some truth behind them. Their friendship would never be the same after telling Charlie that hockey meant more to him than he did. "Go on, then," he prodded. "I'm waiting."

Charlie sighed and looked at the other boy. "There's a clause in our scholarships which says that if I, the captain, willingly leave this place then the rest of the team's scholarships can be dissolved and the Ducks can be kicked out of Eden Hall."

Adam stared at the other boy, "You're not leaving because of us?"

Charlie nodded, "Which explains the pranks. The clause only works if I _willingly_ leave the team."

"So you're doing them to get Reily so pissed off with you that he kicks you out?"

"Yeah," Charlie said, quietly.

Adam looked at the other boy, incredulously, "See, now the only problem I can see with that plan is that you seem to have missed out Reily's violent tendencies. What if he _kills_ you before he chucks you out?"

"Yeah well, you guys will still be at this preppy hell hole and Reily will be chucked in prison."

"I'm serious Charlie."

"Can you see another way?" Charlie asked, quietly. "Because, believe me, if there was I would have taken it. I personally don't enjoy being the subject of Reily's wrath."

Adam was silent for a moment. "You could always just walk out," he said, quietly.

"What? And let you guys be chucked out because of it? I don't think so."

"The others wouldn't mind. They'd probably be relieved."

Charlie nodded. "I know."

Adam looked at him and was about to reply before a thundering banging cut through their conversation. It was the door.

Charlie jumped and looked at it fearfully, exspecting the worst.

"Hey guys!" Portman's loud bellow carried easily through the wood. "You coming or what? I thought we were going to the cinema to celebrate our unexpected lack of practice!"

Charlie sighed in relief, jumped off the bed and flung open the door. "Sure am!" He grabbed a jacket off the back of a chair and pulled it on. "Come on, Banks!"

Adam nodded absently, picked up a jacket too and followed his room mate through the door, immersed in thought.

He knew that the only person that cared about staying at Eden Hall was himself, and he knew that Charlie was well aware of it. An overwhelming sense of guilt swept through him as he remembered his anger at Charlie over the last few days and how Charlie had taken all of it, when the only reason he was doing the pranks was to keep _Adam_ at Eden Hall.

He reached out a hand and timidly touched Charlie on the shoulder. Charlie turned his head and looked back at him, questioningly.

"I'm going to help."

Charlie looked at him, puzzled, then realised what the boy was talking about. "You can't. Otherwise you'll be chucked out too"

"Believe me,"Adam said, stubbornly, "I'll find a way."    

A/N     Oooooh, wasn't that exciting?! Hee hee! Yay! Angst! I love it – don't you? And poor ickle Mr Trodd! I want a chemistry teacher like that! And Adam finally can't be mad at Charlie any more! Silly boy!

Review blurb following! Gonna be a long one – I can feel it in my bones!

Shadowblood: Wow – that's a bit of a freaky name! Hee hee! I think I must have updated my story before realising that you had reviewed! Sorry – I am ashamed. Thankyou for all the complimentary words! Make me blush! I will have updated twice since that review so you should be happy!

NYGoldfish: Thankyou for reviewing even though you were busy! That means a lot! You were my first reviewer again!

CakeEater'sGirly – Katie: You are sooo sweet! Thank you so much for understanding about my little exam problem! Your review made me want to give you a hug so here you are *hugs*. I'm glad that you now understand everything properly! I was confused for a while back there and I'm the author so yeah… The new exercises made you nervous? I'm glad – not that I know what they're gonna be yet *blushes*. I really am gonna have to put some thinking time behind that. I find it quite hard to make up hockey exercises which are evil AND vaguely legal! Obviously I'm just not evil enough at heart! *grins*

Percussion: I really hope you read this chapter! Then you can find out just what a lovely guy Charlie really is! I hope I'm managing to change your mind on this! I won't give up until I do!!

xoMEGSxo: I reckon that this chapter is actually longer than the last so that should make you happy! I'm glad you're enjoying the relationship between Banks and Charlie. I think there is such a lot of potential for fights between those two! Love them, really do! Yeah, I know – If a phsycopathic coach comes along and tries to get the better of me – they better watch out! Sophie learns chemistry! Ha ha!

Anne918: Slightly more angst between our fave Ducks here but I'm feeling that maybe it's going to be dying out now. *Sniff* There's nothing for Banks to be angry about now he knows the reasons behind the pranks! God Damn it!

Sloane Miette: "go be defiant, ducks, rah"?! Ha ha! That made me chortle into my cereal I can tell you! Thanks for reviewing!

Ice Cube: I don't actually have anything else to ask you! SHOCK HORROR! You've explained it all to me! Angsty, dramatic AND funny?! Wow! You don't ask for much, do you?! I dunno – maybe the fight scene between Charlie and Adam could be considered all three – what do you think??

Banksiesbabe: Mischief girl, hey? Lol – I dunno, I think I definitely verge on being called troublesome myself! It comes when you have as loud a voice as I do! You felt sorry for Banks? I hope you feel sorry for Charlie this chapter! Yes, Adam has kinda snuck in there and become a main duck. It's quite disturbing actually! I didn't think I liked him that much in the films but he certainly adds to the story! Thank you for allowing me to take as long as I wanted! I hope you enjoyed it!

WeBuiltThisCityOnRockandRoll: Adam did have blond hair though didn't he? I've gotta see it again! I'm sure it was… Maybe we could just settle on "golden". Ha! That makes him sound like a toddler! I think it would be mucho cool if an icerink did turn to mush! If I ever go to one, I think I may just take a bag of salt ha ha! Sorry, I didn't update quicker, slower in fact (if possible)! I blame the fact that I have to go to school! Maybe I should pack it in and just dedicate my life to writing fanfic! I don't think my parents would be particularly thrilled with that though…

Adriana3: You were my hundredth reviewer! Just for that you get a hug! *hugs*! Top five stories list? *sniff* I feel so appreciated! I like Banksie in this too. I didn't like him in the films – thought he was a bit of a wimp to tell you the truth. Like him in the realm of fanfiction though! Adds a lot of angst to the whole situation! Just to put your mind at ease, I wasn't going to make this slash anyway. Though sometimes ok, slash generally seems to just screw up a perfectly good friendship! Why must I be a sheep and follow the slash flock? There's enough out there already! Hope you enjoy my perfectly straight story!

Chelsea: Choir, hey? I can't sing for anything so I wouldn't know! Do you have to wear those white sheet uniforms? *grins*. Yeah I did that whole sodium experiment too! We were actually given blue tinted bits of glass to look through in case in damaged your eyes! How ludicrously funny is that? We were all expecting to be cowering under our desks, but at the end of it we were like "is that it?". I agree – it would have been amazingly funny if Charlie had succeeded in whacking Banks in the head with hihs shoe but I had to restrain myself! Essence of Awesomeness? *blushes* that's so nice! I can't actually believe that you've been limited to one hour on the pc per night! I feel I should fly over to America and give your parents a piece of my mind! Ha ha! They'd just be like: "who is this freaky English girl and how does she know our Chelsea?" Then they'd ban you from speaking to me and fanfiction and then I would cry! Seriously! Is it just one hour on the internet or the computer full stop? What about homework??

Cat: I was puzzled when I got your review. I thought I had made it quite clear that it WAS Charlie pulling the pranks? Sorry for confusing you! I'm glad you're liking my story and I hope the fact that it is Charlie isn't going to spoil it for you. Just out of interest, who did you think it was??

KShyne99: Thank you for your luverly review! I'm glad you think it's original! I did review as soon as possible! Thanks for not being aggressive about it! Lol.

CakeEater'sGirly - ?: I know this must sound really rude but which one are you? I know from your bio that three of you share the same name and so it gets kinda confusing for little old me when I have multiple reviews supposedly from the same person. I'm glad you're liking Charlie in this one! And Adam! Thankyou for the review but I gotta ask, why are you reviewing Chapter 7? I'd really appreciate a review back to explain all these little conundrums you've thrown at me. Meh, I'm embarassed for being so dumb! 


	12. Blood on the ice

A/N            HELLO!! *readers look at Sophie, puzzled. They can't quite remember who she is*. Yes, I know I've been away for an _incredibly _long time – please forgive me! My excuse is that for the last week I have been learning lines and being prodded with sharp pointed sticks… 

My school ended this term with a "drama week" and each class was given a scene from a Shakespeare play to perform. We got Romeo and Juliet and that whole "a plague o' both your houses" scene. I was Mercutio – it involved fighting with Tybalt (swords really are great fun!!), being stabbed (until you're on the wrong side of one, that is) and then having a flipping long speech before I finally croaked. It was interesting to say the least. I won the best supporting actress award, though, which made me happier about the many bruises I got from the fights.

Other happy news is that I have finished my mocks (and didn't do too badly in them, even considering the lack of revision I put in), I have broken up for Christmas (YAY!!!) and I now have the time to write this chapter which I have had planned for over a week! Bad news is that I still have drama coursework, chemistry coursework and english coursework! Grrrr – our teachers don't know the meaning of Christmas "holidays".

I feel incredibly bad about the time I have made you all wait. I aim this apology especially at Ice Cube and Ashcake because their SECOND reviews really made me realise how long it had been since I had updated. I love you all and thank you for bearing with me!

Kate: Yeah – it is REALLY screwy when FF.net has something wrong with it and deletes your carefully crafted review! I tend to copy all of them before I send them, just in case! The problem with chapter notes in my case is that I don't keep to them! Seriously – I'll be writing and then an idea will randomly pop into my head and I'll be like "Ooo! What a great thing to add to my story…" I'm odd, I know… Have you written any of your story yet?! If so POST POST POST!! I'd really like to read! I'm glad you liked the "handle your stick better" line – I look back on it and am rather proud!! *beams happily*

I hope the wait was worth it… Feel free to hate me if it's not! Lol. I made this chapter quite angsty and quite… wait for it… VIOLENT!! Mwahahahaha!! I realised that though Reily does a lot of threatening and giving people evil looks, he doesn't really put his fist where his mouth is (figuratively speaking of course) and, from this realisation, this chapter was born… I hope you enjoy it!

            Charlie skated cautiously onto the ice, having carefully placed himself _behind_ the two Bash Brothers. He hadn't wanted to come to the practice but he knew that he had no choice: if he hadn't gone to the Coach, the Coach would have come and found him instead. At least at the practice he was surrounded by the Ducks and he hoped that their presence would prevent the Coach doing anything… nasty.

            It was Monday, the first practice after the melted ice rink incident, and Charlie was very keen to stay out of Reily's way. He was amazed that he hadn't seen the man since the Saturday morning, and even more amazed that Reily hadn't actively sought him out to punish him. 

After the Ducks had come back from their trip to the mall, it had taken all of Adam's persuasion to get his Captain back into Eden Hall, and back to the dorms. Charlie had been adamant that the Coach would be waiting for him in their dormroom and actually made Adam search the room _and_ the bathroom thoroughly in case Reily was hiding out in there, ready to pounce, before he crossed the threshold.

Charlie had done very little on Sunday, apart from going on a_ very_ long trip to visit his mother at the diner. Casey Conway had been delighted to see her son but had been surprised and a little suspicious when Charlie had stayed the entire day, seemingly happy to just watch her serving food and to help with the washing up. She had asked whether there was anything wrong, whether he had fallen out with the Ducks or something, and he had told her resolutely that everything was fine. She hadn't believed him of course. 

He had returned to Eden Hall late and had gone back to his room, fully expecting either a note from the Coach telling him to report to his office or the man in the flesh, perhaps wielding a brick. 

There had been neither. 

Charlie had been expecting retribution all weekend but there had been nothing. As a result, he was constantly on edge, waiting for the blow, and the lack thereof was having a profound affect on the boy. The anticlimatic events of the last couple of days had left Charlie exhausted and even more terrified of the Coach than he had been when Mr Trodd had come to tell him of the cup incident. He slept sporodically and, when he did, his dreams were always filled with large hands, searching him out, crushing him, with no possible escape… 

Fulton and Portman skidded to a halt in front of him braking his current thought line, and he stopped skating immediately, only just managing to prevent a collision with the larger boys. He looked up to see what had merited their lack of movement and found himself staring straight into the blue eyes of the Coach. Charlie froze, wide eyes locked with the larger man's own pair, unable to tear himself away. Reily smiled predatorily, the expression sending barbs of fear through Charlie's entire body.

Luis, who had been skating behind his Captain, had never been known for his clean stops and the sudden halt had caught him unawares. He collided with the curly haired boy, effectively breaking Charlie's eye contact with the Coach, and sending them both to the floor. The speedster got up quickly and helped the other boy to his feet, apoligising profusely. Charlie assured the boy that it was ok before fixing his eyes nervously to the floor, not wanting to catch the Coach's eye again.

Reily waited patiently for the rest of the Ducks to assemble before he addressed his team and outlined their lesson.

"Because of the unfortunate events that led up to our Saturday practice being cancelled, I have had more time to plan this lesson, and, as a result, I have come up with a new exercise which I feel you all may enjoy," he smiled widely, an expression which immediately quelled any of the more naïve Ducks' excitement about the possibility of a "fun" lesson.

"Conway."

Charlie looked up hurriedly, his heart hammering in his chest. "Yes, Coach?"

The man gestured to a large, red, plastic box beside him on the ice. "Take these ropes and tie your team's hands behind their backs."

Charlie looked at the man, shocked and extremely reluctant to comply with the demand. The Ducks looked at each other worriedly, feeling that the Coach already had a huge advantage over them at practice as it was. Tying their hands together would only gave him _more_ control over them. Portman snorted derisively, as if he would frankly prefer to sell his soul to the Devil than submit to such a degrading act.

Reily caught Charlie's unwillingness to comply with his wishes. "Conway, do I need to remind you that I am your Coach? You _will_ do what I say," he glanced meaningfully at the rest of the team, his gaze lingering on Portman for slightly longer, "without any questions."

Charlie moved forward tentatively, then stopped and bit his lip, glanced up at the man worriedly, then turned. He looked at the assembled Ducks, trying to gauge their reactions to what the man was ordering him to do. Most of the team had their eyes glued submissively to the floor. Charlie caught Russ' glance and the boy quirked his eyebrow suggestively. Charlie grinned, grateful to the boy for the light relief. His eyes  moved on, skipping over Averman and Ken, until they found Fulton's steady gaze. Their eyes met momentarily, understanding passing between the old friends, then Fulton shrugged as if to say "what the hell". Charlie glanced to the left of the Bash Brother, to Portman, standing determinedly, jaw clenched, hands balled into fists by his side.

"Conway…" the Coach growled his name warningly but Charlie ignored the threat, wanting to get acceptance from his team first before he complied with the Coach's order. 

Portman shot a look of hatred at his Coach, glanced at Charlie who was standing immobile on the ice, looking lost, then turned his head and looked at Fulton. His fellow Bash Brother gave him a look of understanding and nodded, almost imperceptively. Portman paused. Then he sighed angrily, turned back to Charlie and jerked his head in consent. 

 Charlie was relieved. He turned and skated cautiously forward towards the Coach. He grabbed the red box hurriedly and turned back to his team. The man's eyes followed the boy's movements, unblinking.

"Team, line up," Charlie said, his voice wavering only slightly.

The Ducks complied. Charlie skated to the first in line – Guy – pulled out a short length of rope, then stopped and looked around embarrassed, unsure of what to do with it.

"Hands out behind you, Germaine," Reily ordered quietly, watching the proceedings carefully. "Make your Captain's job a little easier."

Guy followed his Coach's instructions and Charlie skated behind him. He pulled Guy's hands together and awkwardly tied them in a loose knot. He then turned to the next in the line, Connie, pulled out another piece of rope, waited for her to put her hands behind her back, then tied them together as well.

The entire process took some time but gradually he became more expert with the tying of the knots and it sped up, until, finally, all the Ducks except Charlie had their hands tied securely behind their backs.

Reily then moved. He skated behind the Ducks, checking the knots, making sure that they were tight enough. He made Charlie redo Guy's and Connie's and when he was done, the man was apparently satisfied. He skated to the front of the Ducks and outlined what they were to do next.

"I want you skating up and down  this rink for the rest of the lesson. Your arms are a vital part in your ability to skate and having them tied behind your back will make you realise just how important they are, and how much you rely on them. By the end of this lesson, I want to see you all skating well, even without your arms for balance or momentum. I want to see you increase your skill with your legs and your body."

He stopped and smiled, "I warn you, however, that if you fall you will not have your hands to keep you off the ice. This could make it…" he paused, "…quite painful. Don't worry, though, you are all at a suitable level that I don't expect anyone to fall, and if they do I shall be _very_ disappointed." He paused, looked at the Ducks and smiled icily, then turned his gaze on Charlie. "Conway, bring me the last bit of rope – the rest of you, get skating."

Charlie slowly bent and picked up the final length of rope from the box. Ignoring the others' cries of surprise and the general hilarity ensuing from trying to balance and move without arms, Charlie moved slowly towards his Coach, fear coursing through his veins. When he was only a metre away from the man, he stopped. He looked up into the man's face and swallowed. Reily held out his hand and took the piece of rope from Charlie's grasp.

"Turn around, Conway," he said, quietly.

Charlie hesitated, then complied, the memory of the last time he had had his back to the Coach still fresh in his mind. Reily reached out and captured both of Charlie's hands in one of his large ones. He then drew the rope around them.

Charlie began breathing heavily. He was all too aware of how helpless he would be without his hands and a sudden fear of being totally at the man's mercy hit him and he began struggling, trying desperately to escape the large man's grip. Reily laughed and crushed the boy's hands together, elicitating a slight gasp of pain. He pulled the boy nearer, the task made easy by the frictionless surface of the ice, until Charlie could feel his breath on the nape of his neck.

"No use struggling now, boy," Reily said softly. "Far too late to try and back out of what you did."

Charlie stopped moving and stood still, desperately trying to calm his heartbeat. He knew the Coach was right: there was no escape.

"That's better. Now," the Coach swiftly tied the knots, smiling as he pulled the rope painfully tight, "you get out there and start skating." And with that, he gave Charlie a slight push.

Charlie almost overbalanced there and then. He desperately fought to keep upright and only just succeeded. He righted himself and grimaced again at the pain the friction from the rope was causing. He didn't look back at the Coach as he began making his way slowly to the far side of the rink. Reily was right – without his arms, skating was a lot more difficult.

He managed to avoid colliding with the other Ducks skating studiously across the ice, and finally made it to the end. He stopped and took a breather, leaning against the boards, and from his vantage point he watched his team mates closely. 

Goldberg had fallen over. The Captain had to stifle a laugh as he watched the defender's antics. Good skaters would maybe stand a chance at getting back to their feet without hands, unfortunately, though, skating definitely wasn't one of Goldie's strong points. As a result he was rolling around helplessly on the ice, desperately trying to find traction on the slippery surface, and, at the same time, trying to kick Julie and Russ who were standing over him, laughing.

A peal of the whistle almost made Julie and Russ fall over themselves. The Coach skidded to a halt in front of Goldberg. He looked at the other two Ducks and ordered them back to their own positions. Then he grabbed the top of Goldberg's arm and dragged him upwards.

Charlie sighed and turned back to his own widths. He gingerly started skating, making slow, wobbily progress across the ice. When he got to the other end he almost fell over when he stopped, reflexively trying to put his arms out to steady himself. When he had finally regained his balance, he was then faced with another problem: how to turn around. Without the use of his arms, the final turn he decided on was far less impressive than what he would have done normally, but it worked. It involved picking his feet up and making dainty little steps around in a circle until he finally faced the way he wanted to go. He felt incredibly foolish and thanked anyone listening that there was no one watching from the stands.

Reily made his way up the line, watching all the Ducks' every move and every mistake. He commented to them as he passed, mixing constructive criticism with full blown insults and small sounds of praise.

When he reached the Captain, he stopped and leant against the boards, watching the boy's movements hungrily. Charlie was very much distracted by his Coach's presence and desperately tried to block him from his senses. He sped up, ignoring the man to all intense purposes, concentrating entirely on his feet. When he next looked up the man was gone, making his way back down the row. Charlie breathed a sigh of relief.

At the end of the lesson, Reily blew his whistle sharply. All the Ducks made their way quickly him, having at last all mastered skating without the use of their arms. 

"Line up," he barked.

The Ducks all speedily obeyed him.

Reily took out a large penknife, attached to his keys, and drew out the blade. Charlie shuddered, involuntarily.

"All of you hold out your hands behind your back and do _not_ move, otherwise you might find yourself skating without the use of your hands normally."

The Ducks all looked at the knife and held out their hands behind their backs steadily, not wanting any accidents to happen.

Reily skated behind them and took hold of the first Duck's hands. Averman looked like he was going to pass out. Reily quickly and accurately cut the rope from around the boy's wrists, freeing him swiftly. Averman let out a long breath as the knife was taken away from him, then winced as he brought his arms back around to his sides having been made stiff from their enforced abnormal positions they had held for the last hour.

Reily moved down the line, making quick work of the ropes. When he reached Charlie, however, the man passed over him, leaving the Captain's wrists still bound. Charlie was confused, and wondered if the man had simply forgotten, but soon realised that the act was intentional when the Coach slashed the rope from Adam's hands, then moved on to Dwayne. Charlie opened his mouth to say something but then shut it again. A heavy weight of fear and anticipation settled deep in his stomach.

When Reily was finished with the Ducks, he made his way back to the front again.

"You have all done well this lesson. Though your technique was frankly appalling at the start," he glanced at Goldberg who opened his mouth as if to argue, but then shut it again, "you have all improved." His face darkened, "Well, most of you, anyway." He paused, "Those of you who have had your hands untied are free to go." The man turned and caught Charlie's eye, "Those who don't will stay," he said, softly.

The freed Ducks all began making their way back to the changing rooms, chattering aimlessly, all except Adam. He stood where he was on the ice, unwilling to leave his Captain alone with the Coach.

"Banks?" Reily said, quietly, turning to the blond boy.

"I just… I wanted to… I don't think…" the boy tried to voice his worries but couldn't quite pick up the courage to do so.

"Go and get changed, Banks. Conway and I have to go over a few things."

Adam looked desolately at Charlie, his eyes full of guilt and sorrow. Charlie attempted a smile but it looked more like a grimace. Adam nodded and turned, slowly making his way across the ice to the changing rooms. Charlie watched him go, feeling totally alone. He looked up at the Coach and the man smiled thinly, sending a shiver down Charlie's back. The boy had to admit that he, Captain Duck, was scared.

Reily stepped nearer, making Charlie nervously back away. The man stopped and spoke.

"I was not impressed with your skating out there, Conway. I have kept you behind so that you can show me that you have improved. Start skating and don't stop until I tell you to."

Charlie looked at the man and nodded, slowly. He backed up a little and then began his widths once more, trying desperately to keep his movements fluid and strong. Gradually, his clumsy and sporadic progress across the ice became more and more refined and he picked up speed. Charlie almost smiled in triumph – the Coach couldn't keep him much longer when he was skating like this.

He was about halfway across the ice when he saw Reily move. The large man skated quickly and aggressively towards the boy, catching Charlie unaware. The Coach crashed into him, sending him hurtling to the floor. Charlie reflexively tried to put his hands out to break his fall, but of course they were still tied behind his back and the movement only propelled him even more forward. He crashed, face first, in the hard, slippery ice.

His Coach was quickly on him. Reily knelt, one knee on the ice, the other grinding into the small of the boy's back, preventing him from attempting to get up. Reily reached out and grabbed the boy's brown, curly hair and forced his head backwards until the boy's ear was on the same level as the Coach's mouth.

Charlie's nose was bleeding profusely from where it had smashed into the floor. As his head was lifted, the blood ran down his face and dripped onto the ice, making swirling red patterns on the cold surface. The grip the man had on his hair was excrutiating and Charlie cried aloud from the pain. He struggled pathetically: without the use of his arms he was pretty much immobile. 

The Coach shook him by the hair, elicting another yelp from the boy but effectively stopping his useless attempts to free himself.

"You will listen to me and you will listen good, Conway," the man growled into Charlie's ear, shaking him again to emphasise his point. "You have _pissed_ me off continuously this term, you little fucker. You thought you had got away with melting the ice rink, didn't you?" he shook the boy again and Charlie groaned. "Well you were wrong! I do not forget or forgive easily, as I'm _sure_ you've noticed. You try pulling another stunt like that and it will be seriously bad for you, do you understand?" 

He forced Charlie's head down into the floor again, grinding the poor boy's nose relentlessly back into the ice. Charlie yelled from the pain and bucked his hips, desperately trying to get away from his tormentor, but to no avail.

"I _said_, do you understand?!" Reily spat out.

Charlie whimpered and nodded, his eyes watering from the pain.

"Good!" The man let go of Charlie's head but didn't get off him. He leant down towards the boy's head and whispered into his ear, "Just remember, Conway, that this was a warning. If you are foolish enough to allow a next time, then you will seriously regret it."

And with that, he pulled out his penknife and unsheathed the blade. Charlie caught the flash of silver, realised what it was, and desperately tried to escape. The man chuckled, a deep and unpleasant sound, and grabbed Charlie's wrists. Charlie fully expected to feel the blade on his flesh, so when he felt the knife shred his bonds he almost cried in relief. 

Reily stood up and pocketed his knife, staring down at the boy's trembling body, a small smile flickering on his face.

"If you aren't out of here when I come back in ten minutes I'll give you a detention, Conway," he said, his voice void of emotion.

Only when Charlie heard the sound of the man's skates moving away from him, did he dare to move. He brought up his newly released hands and cradled his face and nose with them, ignoring the blood still dripping from them. He brought his knees up to his chest and lay curled in the fetal position, trembling. He lay like that for an eternity, tears dripping silently down his face.    

Adam was waiting patiently for Charlie, sitting stock still on one of the wooden benches facing the door. He was worried. Surely the Coach didn't need this long to just "go over a few things". He was debating going back in when the door was pushed open…

"SHIT!" Adam exclaimed when he caught sight of Charlie's ruined face. He got up and moved towards the staggering boy, trying to help him to the bench he had just vacated. 

Charlie pushed him off. "Don't, Banks, it's not as bad as it looks," he said, wearily.

"Bullshit it's not! What the hell happened?!" Adam asked, fervently.

"I fell over," Charlie stated, blandly.

Adam gave him an odd look, then got up and fetched tissue from the toilets. He wetted them slightly and took them back to his Captain. Adam took a couple of dabs at the dried blood but the pain was too much for Charlie and he grabbed the tissue off of him and did it himself.

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, Charlie gently trying to staunch the trickle of blood still coming from his nose, and the blond boy watching him closely.

Adam was the first to break the silence. 

"Was it Reily?" he asked, matter-of-factly.

"I told you, _I fell_," was the other boy's staunch reply.

"Yeah. I didn't believe you when you first told me and I still don't believe you now."

Charlie got up, exasperated, and made his way to the toilets, dumped the old tissues in the bin and grabbed a load more. He leaned against the sink and looked into the mirror, blotting carefully at his purpling nose. There was a long silence.

"Would it matter if it was?" the dark haired boy asked, simply.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, even if I told you that it was Reily, what difference does it make? What would you do if I said it was Reily that tripped me up, threatened me and smashed my face into the ice?" Charlie's voice was hard.

Adam was silent for a moment. He looked at his Captain, sadly. "Nothing," he finally admitted.

"Exactly," Charlie turned and looked at the other boy. "I can't go to the Dean, Bombay already knows and is trying to do something about it and the rest of the people who could make a difference don't give a shit." He turned back to the mirror, "Therefore, to all intense purposes, I fell." 

He turned on the tap and splashed cold water onto his face. Then he moved back to his locker, banged it open, grabbed his towel, and rubbed his painful face gingerly. Adam watched him get out his normal clothes and start pulling off his skates.

"So that's it?" he asked, incredulously. "You're just gonna let him get away with abusing you?"

Charlie looked at the other boy and grinned, a determined glint in his eye. "Of course not," he replied, softly. "I've got just the thing to get my own back on Reily."

Adam looked at the other boy, confused. "But aren't you worried about what he's gonna do to you if you piss him off again?"

Charlie laughed sharply. "Nah. You see the ironic thing is that when he was busy grinding my nose into the ice rink floor, I realised that I wasn't actually scared of him – I'm scared of what he can do to me. And the truth is that he _can't_ actually do anything much worse than busting my nose because otherwise he'll be caught." He looked down at his hands and shrugged, "It's a funny old world I suppose."

Adam shook his head in amazement, "You're mad, Spazway, you know that, I suppose?"

Charlie grinned, "Let me finish getting changed then we'll go back to the dorms and I can show you exactly what I have in mind for the Coach." 

A/N     You likey?? I am very evil, non?! I was very impressed with myself for coming up with another "exercise" which would be vaguely legal and have a teaching point to it. I can't very well have Reily order the Ducks to chuck knifes at each other or anything foolish like that because… well, it just wouldn't happen! See! I do try and make my fics as realistic as possible!! Lol! By the way, thank you very much for whoever nominated me in the Mighty Ducks Awards. Do tell me who it is in your next review so I can heap flowers and presents upon you!

Review blurb following…

NYGoldfish: Thankyou for reviewing so soon!! And thank you for being so nice!! I loved the whole "OH BOY" at the beginning – made me laugh… dunno why *shrugs*.

Adriana: Ok, rereading your review makes me feel really bad about the time I took over updating. As in bad – I'm going to go and stick my head in a blender – bad. I'm sorry!! I am mortally ashamed by my slackingness! I hope that after this chapter you will find it in your heart to forgive me…

Chelsea: Darling, your reviews just simply get longer and longer – not that I'm complaining of course *grins*. I love you for it, in fact *hugs*!! To tell you the truth, I don't know how I get the italics to work in my stories. I always change my word document to a webpage before I upload it, which might be it. Either that or the ff.net God smiles down on me *shrugs* either one… *grins evilly* I intentionally made it seem as if Banks was Reily. HAHAHAHA! I'm so cunning I sometimes astound myself!! I didn't think that Mr Trodd knocking could have been the coach as well *mouth drops open* GOOD POINT! I missed that! Obviously I'm so talented at this writing thing that I do all these great things unintentionally, lol (MAJOR joke!). "The guy is so abused...you are so evil" – I know, I know, it's quite disturbing isn't it?! Well, if I'm evil that certainly makes you evil too! Lol! We can be evil together! Projects suck big time! I have pity – believe me! Big up to the procrastinating rebels of the world!! "Black hose?!?!" *smirks, grins, tries to control laughter but it is too much, hysterical laughter ensues* You have black HOSE??? *Tries to control herself - fails* I'm sorry – I should have sympathy but… Heehee, hose… *stares out into distance for a second before jerking out of trance*. Anyway, continuing with the review. I so wanna add that whole thing with the shoe in but I can't think of anywhere it will fit, dang it! Maybe I could just add it in randomly at the end and then blame it on you when everyone is all confuzzled! Lol! Why don't you tell your parents that you are an aspiring author and that you need the time on the computer to work on your creative genius and if you don't have it then you will end up being a sewage cleaner or something… That'd get my parents to relent, lol! I would just like to retell you how much I am LOVING "One Way Ticket" at the mo! Update soon, pretty please!! Hang on, random thought, what the…? Oh yeah *smirks* HOSE!! Hee hee!

Katie: Bean? Beaner? Inside joke? Oh wowee! Can I be in on it?? Pretty please? *gets excited* Can I call you Bean? *explodes into giggles*. Unless of course *looks sad and dejected* you don't want me to… *sniffs loudly* Don't worry – I'll live… I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that you weren't too worried with the violence. *grnis happily* We all love it, don't we?? Lol! I'm sorry I didn't update soon! Forgive me PLEASE!!

PlainJane: Heehee – yeah, *smiles uncertainly* great pranks… (note to self: make up great pranks…) I'm glad you enjoyed the last few chapters. Don't worry about not reviewing religiously – it's nice to know that you're reading it though! You got a burn mark through your shirt?! *gasps* No way! That's harsh! Sue your Chem teacher for losses, lol! Hope you keep reading!!

BanksiesBabe: You are very fair in your giving of pity!! Lol! I thought of you and your love of the fellow, so I stuck the bit with Adam in at the end. I could have left it till the next chapter but I thought, no, you've been waiting so patiently and then I don't even give you any Banksie?? That would just been plain cruel! Hee hee! I hope I didn't stretch even your patience with the time I took over writing this… I love you for being so nice about it!!

Ashcake: Ok – for both your reviews!! I'm glad you enjoyed my story so much! And I'm sorry that I took so long in updating that you actually had to ask me again! I was utterly ashamed! The fact that you reviewed twice is very sweet and I am eternally grateful that you rate my story that much!

Ice Cube: *bounces back* Thank you so much for liking my story so much that you're having withdrawals – ok that sounded bad but you know what I mean… I'm sorry that I didn't update for the "tomorrow" of your second review but you will be glad to know that your review spurred me on to greater efforts and this was the finished result. Don't worry – I will ask you if I have anything – I'm annoying like that *grins annoyingly to prove point*. *hugs* - you deserve that purely because you are such a great person to have reviewing my story!! Love ya loads!

Gina: I take ages over reading chapters too. *scratches chin* Hang on uno momento! Did I actually read the last chapter of your story?! *looks pensively into the distance* I know I meant to, but did I? I'll have to check tomorrow! Apologies if I haven't but I'll be there soon if not! Charlie and Adam working together! Yay! Funfunfun!

Lauren: *looks in awe at review* A new reviewer?? *squeals in excitement* Yay! I really like it when people comment on my writing style – makes me feel loved. I'm glad you liked the whole tension with Adam – he is a very fun character to write!

Sloane Miette: I hate that McDonald's advert too! Bloody annoying! I hope that you weren't disappointed in Reily's reaction. Don't worry about sounding perverse – for God's sake, I write the damn thing, lol! Thanks for reading and I hope that you didn't have to wait too long to read it! 


	13. Pranks

A/N     I feel I'm getting worse at this whole updating thing. But never fear THE END IS IN SIGHT!! I can't believe I'm saying that but it's true! I've only got like three chapters left, four at the very most! Isn't that exciting? I will finish a story for the first time in my life! Also, the fact that I'm nearing the end will probably mean good things when it comes to my updating speed. It's getting so exciting from now on in that I won't have to force myself to write the bloody chapter! Ah, happy days!

This is a bit of a disjointed chapter to tell you the truth. It's got like four scenes in five pages, which is pretty impressive if you think about it! I hope you particularly appreciate the first scene, due to the fact that I had to write it twice because my computer buggared up! I was not a happy bunny!

This is most definitely and very guiltily dedicated to Ice Cube because it was definitely her THIRD review which spurred me to writing this. Honestly, she's better than any muse… So, Cube, this is for you! I hope it was worth it! 

            It was Wednesday morning and all the Ducks were seated in the dining hall, having breakfast. The mood was fairly relaxed. Tuesday's practice had been uneventful - well, as uneventful as any practice with Reily could be - and there was no hockey practice that evening. The school believed that the team needed at least one weekday, along with Sunday, to recover and this regulation had turned the two days in question into Reily-less beacons of hope.  

            "What lesson have I got first, Wu?" Portman elbowed the smaller boy next to him, almost making him drop the milk he was pouring over his cereal.

            Ken gave him an angry look. "Ever heard of a timetable, Portman? It's a novel idea. You write down all the lessons you have so you don't forget. You can even colour coordinate it if you want. Why don't you get one?"

            "Why do I need one when you know all the team's lessons, kennyboy? You're like my own walking time table!" The Bash Brother laughed.

            "Oh, gee, thanks, Portman," Kenny said in a heavily sarcastic tone, his hurt dulling his eyes. "That makes me feel really needed." He pushed back his chair forcefully, shoved an apple into his pocket and picked up his untouched cereal. "Why do you need to know anyway? You don't learn anything on the rare occasions you _do_ turn up to the right lesson." And with that he turned and made his way to kitchen, deposited his bowl, and made his way out of a side door to the hall. 

            Portman had reddened at the harsh remark and had started up from his chair but Fulton put a comforting hand on his shoulder, stopping him. "Let it go, man. He's just a little stressed is all."

            Connie put down her orange juice and glared at Portman. "Yeah and you're not helping the situation. Why can't you just leave him alone?"

            Portman turned angrily to the girl. "What did I do?" he demanded angrily.

            "Oh what? So being called a human time table isn't an insult in your book?" Connie's voice dripped irony. "Very thoughtful, Dean. You could win an award for empathy."

            Portman leaned back in his chair and waved her remark away. "Just because you got out of the wrong side of whoever's bed you slept in last night, Moreau, don't take it out on me."

            Connie's eyes flashed but, before she could find something cutting to say back, Julie interrupted her, taking a stand, not only for her best friend, but for female solidarity.

            "Slut can be a derogatory word for both genders, Portman, and last time I checked you were nearer to filling the requirements than Connie was."

            "Bite me, Gaffney," Portman snarled

            "No thanks. I don't know where you've been," was the cool reply.

            "I am _not_ a slut!" Portman ground out between clenched teeth.

            Guy looked up from his toast and grinned. "He's right, you know. Luis is the resident male slut at Eden Hall."

            Luis languidly raised one eyebrow at the fair boy. "Oh yeah? Just because I have a _real_ girlfriend, Germaine. Whilst we're on the subject of real relationships, how's it going between you and Connie?"

            Guy spluttered and choked. "Shut up!" he managed to force out between coughs, going red.

            "And here was I thinking that _you_ had started this trail of thought, Germaine." Luis smiled. "Why don't you go and barricade yourself in your room and borrow one of Portman's magazines. Maybe that will relieve your sexual frustration."

            Guy turned an even brighter shade of crimson and stood up, his chair falling backwards and crashing to the ground.

            Adam watched the proceedings in consternation. He could see that the insults were rapidly turning more serious and soon, he knew, they could turn physical. He felt totally helpless, knowing that the team would never listen to him if he tried to stop what was happening.

            He turned quickly and looked at the boy sitting next to him. Charlie had been staring distractedly into space for the majority of breakfast, casually tossing an apple from one hand to the other, not taking any interest in what was enfolding around him.

            "Charlie, _do_ something!" the words came out of his mouth desperately.

            Charlie didn't even stop throwing his apple.

            Adam grabbed his shoulder and shook him out of his trance. "Charlie! Listen to me! You've got to stop all of this before it turns into a real fight! We'll only get into more trouble otherwise! I don't know about you but I certainly could do without another detention!"

            Charlie looked at the scene for a moment in shock, as if he hadn't noticed what was going on before, then shook himself and got up. He took a moment to assess the situation and then he put down his apple and picked up his empty plate. Looking around at the preppy-infested hall, he was satisfied to see that all eyes were on the commotion his team mates were making, none on him. He smiled, raised the plate, and, safely in the knowledge that he could pass off the petty act of vandalism as an accident, he threw the it on the floor where it shattered, sending whirling bits of china across the polished wood.

            There was an immediate silence.

            "Ducks!" he yelled, getting their attention as only a true Captain could. "Get a grip! We don't need this, not now and certainly not here!" He gestured to them all, "This is the _team_ you're fighting with." The Ducks all looked at each other, shamefaced, none of them knowing what had come over them.

            Charlie gestured them nearer, speaking in a lower voice. He certainly didn't need the entire student body of Eden Hall to hear what he had to say to his team. "I know Reily's been pushing us and I know none of us have been getting enough sleep, what with practice and schoolwork, but that's no reason for getting mad at each other. You're not angry at your friends, you're angry at Reily, and if you wanna fight him, come and see me first." He looked at them and grinned, "Of course I will be duty bound to take you to the school nurse immediately because, if you are considering taking on our good coach, you've got to be seriously deranged!"

            All the Ducks laughed at that one, all that is, except Adam. He just smiled a tight ironic smile. If his Captain was being serious then he would be duty bound to take _himself_ down to the nurse's office. 

            Charlie looked at the table, at all the empty plates. "It looks like we're all finished here…" He paused, "Goldie?"

            Goldberg reluctantly nodded.

            Charlie grinned. "Good, so let's go back to the dorms, collect our stuff and go to our lessons. We don't need to give Reily any excuse to be angrier than nature already made him, okay?"

            The other Ducks nodded, picked up their plates, and began making their way to the kitchen to deposit them, giving all the students watching them frosty glares.

            Portman didn't make a move to clean his plate away, only sat back in his chair, looking dejected. Charlie gave him an inquiring look. 

            "Sorry, man," the Bash Brother replied to his Captain's silent question. "However much I would _love_ to go to lessons, I simply can't. I still don't know what I have first."

            "I can help you there." Charlie picked up his apple and took a bite out of it before making his way to the double doors, stepping over the shattered remains of his plate, guiltlessly. "You've got American History with me and Russ," he called over his shoulder.

            "Oh." Portman paused, then got up and started following Charlie back to the dorms "Why didn't you just say so to begin with?" he demanded.

            Charlie took another bite of his apple and chewed it thoughtfully. "Wasn't really paying attention," he admitted. "Anyway," he shrugged, "it was more fun this way."

            Portman laughed and clapped the smaller Duck on his back, almost making the boy fall over.

            "So glad you approve," Charlie muttered, wincing.

            They were on their way to the humanities block when Russ saw it. The poster. He was in front of Charlie and Portman and, when he came to the door to the history corridor, he pushed it open, then stopped and stood stock still, eyes fixated on a point which the other two couldn't see, his body blocking their view.

            "Hey, dude, what is it?" Portman asked, warily.

            "It's a poster," the other boy said, quietly.

            "What?" Charlie joked. "Has Mrs Grangewood been trying to satisfy her insatiable appetite for Hitler again? I told her that people would be worried by the amount of posters she had of him."

            "No, dude," Russ muttered. "For us, this is worse than Hitler." He smoothly stepped aside, revealing what had got him so worried.

*********************

LOST!

MY HUMANITY.

IF FOUND, PLEASE RETURN IMMEDIATELY TO COACH REILY, AS LOSS WILL DIRECTLY CAUSE ACTS OF CRUELTY AND MALICIOUS HATRED TOWARDS THE JV HOCKEY TEAM.

REWARD

KNOWING THAT YOU HAVE SAVED THE SANITY, AND LIVES, OF THE DUCKS. 

THANK YOU.

*********************

            "You know what?" Portman asked, monotonously, after he'd read it. "If we thought we were in trouble before, we were wrong." He looked at the other two, "Now he's _really_ going to hate us."

            Russ nodded, numbly.

            Charlie reached up and tore the poster down. "What's the betting that this is the only one?" he asked, forcing a smile to his lips.

            They heard a shout and saw Julie, Dwayne, Guy and Averman running towards them, Averman holding a familiar piece of paper in his hands.

            "Almost nil, I'd say," Russ said, dejectedly.

            The other Ducks skidded to a halt in front of them. 

            Averman pushed his poster into Charlie's hands and, bent double, hands on his knees, gasping. "They're all over the place!" he nearly sobbed the words. "Whilst we were coming to find you we saw about ten!"

            "Hey, that's not too bad," Charlie said, trying to comfort the boy.

            "We only had to go down _three_ corridors!"

            "Oh."

            Julie looked at her Captain, biting her lip worriedly, "Do you think it's worth us all skipping lessons and going around getting them all down?"

            Charlie considered. "I doubt it. I reckon the damage's been done by now. All we can do is go to lessons and when they ask us about it, deny all knowledge." He smiled brightly, "They can't pin this on us - they have no proof."

            Averman, finally recovered, looked up gravely. "I don't think _he'll_ need proof."

            No one needed to ask who "he" was.

            Charlie threw himself down on his bed. "I felt really bad doing it," he said, flatly. "Some of the team were actually physically scared!"

            Adam looked over at the curly haired boy from where he sat at his computer. "The team don't need to worry about it, Charlie. It's _you_, if anyone, that needs to be scared. When he finds out about it, you're going be the one he comes looking for."

            Charlie nodded, absentmindedly. "That was the plan."

            Adam looked at the boy, worriedly. "And it was a stupid plan from the beginning. Are you sure you want to continue with this, bearing in mind what his reaction's going to be like?"

            "His reaction is what the plan's based on," Charlie said, resolutely.  "He's going to let me go whether he wants to or not, and I am _not_ taking you guys with me." He looked down at his feet. "He _has_ to get angry with me," he said firmly, and Adam didn't think the words were directed at him.

            Charlie got up slowly and moved towards the desk. "How many hits have you got?"

            Adam looked at the bottom of the screen. "Twelve." He glanced at the brightly coloured webpage displayed on the computer's monitor and sighed, "He's going to take this personally, you know."

            Charlie grinned, "That's the idea."

            Adam frowned at the boy's cheerful attitude and looked up at him, eyes locked together for a moment. "This isn't a joke, Charlie. He's going to pissed."

            "I know," his Captain said firmly. He looked closely at Adam's uncomfortable posture. "Not having any second thoughts are we, Banksie?" He pointed at the screen, "The website was all your idea."

             Adam smiled despite himself. "Not _entirely_ my idea… well, not the content anyway. You were the one who figured that this would get our lovable Coach the most angry. I worry about your mind sometimes, Conway," he joked.

            "Only sometimes?" the boy murmured. He looked at the screen, preoccupied, "Twelve isn't that many to have seen it, is it?"

            Adam stretched back and put his hands behind his head. "Oh I wouldn't worry about that. The website address was quite small on the poster, so not many people probably thought that much about it at the time. You can bet that some did though, and word will get around. Fast, I should think."

            Charlie nodded, satisfied. He sat down on his bed and began pulling his shoes off.

            Adam turned to look at him in surprise. "You going to bed already?"

            The boy grinned at him. "Got to. I've got business in the night remember?" He walked across the room and began digging in his sock drawer, finally bringing out the recording device his stepfather had given him.

            "What do you need that for?" Adam asked, puzzled.

            Charlie smiled knowingly. "I thought I might record the whole thing."

            Adam looked at him, then laughed. "His reaction you mean?"

            Charlie nodded. "I'm not going to be anywhere near him at the time and I'd be so disappointed to miss out on the fruits of my labour. And anyway," he grinned, evilly, "I thought if it was _that_ good, I might just accidentally have to play it in assembly."

            "You amaze me sometimes, Conway."

            Charlie nodded wisely, "That's because I'm amazing."

            Adam threw a pillow at him.

            When Reily saw the poster, he stopped and stood, staring at it, eyes slightly narrowed, for almost five minutes, oblivious to the other people in the corridor's stares and remarks. Then, jaw clenched, he reached up and, with firm fingers, slowly tore the poster away from the wall. He held it in his grip for a few moments, motionless, before turning and making his way resolutely to his office.

            He quietly shut the door behind him, then moved to his desk, sat down, turned on his lamp, and carefully placed the piece of paper directly in front of him. He looked at it, jaws clenching and unclenching, unblinking, for another moment, then he turned to his computer and connected to the internet.

            He, unlike many, hadn't failed to see the website address, printed in small, legible characters at the top right-hand corner.

            He typed the URL in with steady, controlled jerks of his fingers and pressed enter.

            A bright green page flashed up, the colour reflecting on the Coach's skin, making him seem ill. The Coach studied the webpage, his breath coming out in harsh bursts and his hands clenching and unclenching into fists by his side as he saw what it contained.

            Whoever had created it had been quite skilled with computers. Reily's face glared grimly back out at the Coach, superimposed onto a _female_ body-builder's greased and nearly naked body. Underneath the lewd picture were the words: "DO YOU THINK THERE'S SOMETHING REILY ISN'T TELLING US?" blazing brightly in red.

            Reily slowly sat back and stared at the picture. He shut his eyes for a moment, and, when he opened them, they were blazing in uncontrolled anger. His breathing was ragged, his face pale, and he smashed his fist down on the solid wood desk, making the whole structure shudder under the impact.

            Slowly, his hand trembling in fury, he picked the poster up between one finger and thumb, as if it disgusted him, then opened his drawer and brought out a lighter. He clicked it once, the small flame sending strange, conflicting shadows across his face, then he moved it under the paper and watched intensely as the fire licked at it hungrily.

            He dropped it into the metal bin by his desk, staring at it as the flames consumed it, turning it black. When nothing but ash was left, his breathing had returned to normal.

            He glanced again at his computer screen and narrowed his eyes into icy blue slits. He snarled, got up, and wrenched the computer's leads out of their sockets. Immediately the screen died. 

            He knew who had done this. He flicked his tongue out and ran it lightly over his dry lips, thinking. He had thought his last warning had broken the boy. In fact, when he had left the boy in a bloody pile on the ice, trembling and crying, he didn't think he had just broken him, he thought he had _crushed_ him. 

            Reily clenched his teeth together. The boy was stubborn and headstrong and he was beginning to _seriously_ annoy his Coach. Why wouldn't he just give in? Didn't he know how dangerous it was to try and play with the Coach's emotions?

            If the boy wanted to play without rules, so would he. He was better at this game than the teenager. He had played it before. He would crush him mercilessly until the boy had no stronger desire than to please him. He would destroy him.

            Reily smiled icily. Charles Conway couldn't expect to play with fire and not get burnt, now, could he?

A/N     I hope people got scared at that bit at the end there! I had quite a problem trying to describe Reily's anger without making him sound berserk - and he's definitely not berserk, more calculating. Two pranks in one chapter can you believe? I hope you found them suitably funny…

            I also hoped you noticed the recording device was back in!! Can you believe it? I had my story planned enough so that Charlie didn't just appear randomly with said recording device! I was quite proud of myself *beams happily*.

            Please review - you make my day, you really do!

IceCube: I bow down humbly to you, hoping you will forgive my selfish, nasty ways! Rereading your second review, I can't believe that it didn't make me want to chain myself to my computer then and write. I'm VERY horrid and I'm going to send myself to my room after posting this. I am incredibly honoured that you believe my story is worth three reviews and I am amazed at your stamina! Thank you. Seriously - I wouldn't have done this without you!

Adriana: Thank you - it's very sweet of you to say so! I hope you enjoyed.

Chelsea: The fact that you see a chapter called "Blood on the Ice" and begin squealing in delight really makes me see how much I like you, lol. You really do make me laugh. I dunno if you can still vote for the Mighty Ducks Awards but I still suggest joining the group which hosts them. It's a yahoo group and I think it's called the MightyDucksMovies or something original like that, lol. It can be very… interesting sometimes. I don't post much but other people tend to and it can be very thought provoking - listen to me sounding like a teacher, lol! We can be talented, evil Charlie lovers together!! YAY! Evil folk?! Makes us sound like fairies, lol. Hope you liked this! Not as much violence in this but can't you feel it all building?! I feel that there is going to be a climax VERY soon! Hmmm… I feel I may dedicate my most violent chapter to you. I like dedicating chapters to people! Makes me all warm - like giving a present, lol. Hope you liked this as much as I liked Shattered Glass and One Way Ticket…

Beaner: Yeah. *shuffles uncomfortably* Sorry about the slowness of my update! I hope I haven't lost you as a reviewer forever! I will cry so much if I have! I am an easily traumatised person and I do so enjoy inflicting my pain on others *cough* Charlie *cough*.  I hope you continue to love this story - makes me feel all happy that you do!

Banksiesbabe: My chapters keep getting better and better? *jumps happily* YAY! I dunno about this one though. It's more like a steppingstone between other chapters… Though some bits were pretty funny I thought… Ah well, I'll leave that up to you to decide!

Ashcake: I'm glad I have managed to spark some sympathy in you for Charlie! It makes my life more complete, lol! Are you an Adam lover? I tend to find that Adam lovers are the ones who like Charlie less, due to his insensitivity towards Banks in D3... I hope you can forgive me for taking so long to update!

Anne918: Hope you enjoyed the pranks! I can always imagine Adam as a bit of a computer nerd - dunno why - so it seemed a suitable way for him to contribute. Hope you liked!

Canadian-hockey-girl: YAY! A NEW REVIEWER! I'm sorry, I feel I may have frightened you away now! It always amazes me when people read my story from beginning to end and then still want more! It's a long story and I congratulate you on your stamina! I really do like your idea about Reily telling Banks to do something to Charlie and Adam having to choose but I can't… really I can't! And I can't tell you why because it would ruin the end! You're basketball coach sounds evil… give her a kick and then blame it on me… she can't do anything to me, I'm all the way on the other side of the Atlantic, lol. 

Sloane Miette: I'm glad you wear the cheese and it's not the other way round, honestly I am! Sorry I didn't update sooner! Hope you enjoyed!

Flat*Out*Crazy: *Grins evilly* Was making Reily a laughing stock to the whole school payback enough?! I did laugh when I thought what his expression would be when he saw himself posing as a woman. Hee hee, me and my evil mind! Hope it was worth the wait! Sorry it took so long!

Shanks: ANOTHER NEW REVIEWER! *Nods in agreement* I also believe it sucks that I take so long to update! I hate this feeling of guilt I get when I reread everyone's reviews! Ah well, I deserve it I suppose! And you joined my story the one time when I updated the slowest. *Tries to hide evil grin* *fails* *gets hit over head by Shanks* All I was going to say was that it's funny the way fate works! I am truly honoured that you took the time to read my entire story and are still not bored  with it! Hee hee, reading your review I'm thinking that maybe I should take my time over updating! I'd be VERY interested in seeing any parts you made up! I love pranks too! I'm that sort of girl! I like the whole love/hate relationship between Charlie and Adam, which is why I tend to think of them as best friends. It means they can have some extremely funny arguments. Love to them both! I know - it feels like this fic has been going on for AGES! But it hasn't, I'm almost sure on that! And Bombay will come! *Coughs* Two chapters time *Coughs* lol. I AM BRITISH! I like speaking in a posh accent, lol! You don't use "bloody" *jaw drops open* How do you survive? It's such a useful word. I strongly recommend it! *Looks embarrassed* Sorry again about the whole time period between updates!

SugarPlum: *Eyes widen excitedly* Are you one of those readers who just read without alerting the writer to your presence? I find that vaguely thrilling! It allows me to believe that there are many more people reading this that I don't know about! Meh, leave me to my deluded fantasies… they make my life so much more interesting, lol. I'm glad you didn't faint - I would have felt bad! Thank you for reviewing and I hope you enjoyed!

Hockey_Luvva: *Eyes brim with tears* That is SOOO very nice of you to say so! I was proud that someone nominated me for the awards and you saying that just makes me go all warm and bubbly inside! *Gasps* And another awesome compliment! I really like it when people comment on my writing style - no offence to the Ducks but it kinda gives me something more permanent to remember! I do so love NEW REVIEWERS! I get so excited that I just have to put them into capitals, lol. Hope you enjoyed.


	14. Dead Duck

A/N. ::hands out baseball bats:: Yeah, I know. It's been a while. Feel free to have a good whack. I know I deserve it for leaving you all like that.

I'm gonna do a summary of the last chapter, just so you don't have to go flicking back to remind yourselves what happened half a year ago. ::grimaces::

Charlie wants to leave the Ducks. Reily won't let him and blackmails him to stay, telling him that if he leaves he has the authority to chuck out the other Ducks because of a clause in their scholarships. Charlie went to Bombay and asked for his help and Bombay, the last time we saw him, promised to try and find something on the new Coach soon. Charlie, not being able to take anymore, decided to get himself chucked out by pulling a load of pranks, the last one being a website - with Adam's help. Reily got very angry about said website and that was where I left you all.

I want to thank **Beaner,** **Banksiesbabe, canadian-hockey-girl, Shanks, Chelsea (**Love you, hun and I am so gonna sit my ass down and read the rest of Shattered Glass one of these days**), anne918, Queen of the Cake-eaters, ashcake, Ice Cube, Sloane Miette, Angel Spirit, HockeyLuvva, legolasishot, Sade **for all your lovely reviews.

Biggest thanks go to **Chelsea**, **HockeyLuvva** and **Cube. **You guys all get an extra baseball bat. Well… actually… Cube gets five extra… ::grins::

Enjoy. And I sincerely hope it was worth the wait.

* * *

Charlie swiftly and silently turned the handle of the door and slid into the dormitory room he shared with Adam. Without turning the light on, he moved quietly over to his bed and began stripping off his soiled clothes.

"How did it go?"

The disembodied voice in the darkness made Charlie start, his nerves already stretched to breaking point, before relaxing again when his tired brain realised who it was.

He grinned toothily into the gloom. "Perfect." He sank down onto the bed and began pulling off his old trainers. "You been waiting up all night to ask me that?"

"I was worried. I thought… well…" Adam trailed off.

"What?"

"Well, when you didn't come back for so long… I thought maybe Reily had… _got you_…" Adam muttered, sounded slightly embarrassed.

Charlie ran a hand through his curly hair, tugging slightly at a tangle, preoccupied. "'Got me'?" he snorted quietly to himself. "Nah… not yet anyway…"

He breathed in deeply, then pulled back the covers of his bed and slipped in gratefully. He threw his head back onto the pillow and stared up at the dark expanse of the ceiling.

There was a moment's silence. Before –

"One of them bit me, though."

Adam chuckled. "Only you, Charlie. Is that even possible?"

Charlie frowned slightly and rubbed his injured hand lightly with a finger, putting a little bit of pressure on it and wincing. "You can bet your ass it is, Banks. They're vicious, I'm telling you!"

"Whatever, Spazway." Adam's voice held barely concealed laughter.

"I'm gonna get a bruise!" Charlie replied, indignantly.

Adam shook his head, smiling. "You can show me this 'injury' in the morning." He turned over and snuggled further down into his covers. "Night."

"I'll do that, Cake eater." Charlie shifted slightly, adrenaline still a little too high to sleep. "Vicious creatures," he muttered to himself, again poking at his hand. A slow smile dawned on his face. "All the nicer for the Coach, I suppose."

And with that last happy thought, he let his own eyes droop shut.

* * *

"…and so Goebbels actually had a club foot and Hitler wore glasses but, due to propaganda, and the Nazi view on imperfection, these faults were covered up. Propaganda was also used to enforce the Nazis' racial views: Aryans being risen to a high status…"

Charlie had long since switched off. It was too early in the morning to be discussing the Nazi Foreign Policy, however excited about the subject Mrs Grangewood seemed to be. His head propped up by his hand, his unfocused gaze was fixed outside the window, watching the rain come down dully. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes open: his illicit activities last night, coupled with the warmth of the classroom, making him drowsy.

"…Jews of course were subjugated to much hate, as were many other ethnic minorities. The Nazis did everything to encourage the anti-Semitic views of the German citizens…"

The door behind Charlie opened softly and Mrs Grangewood's voice trailed off.

"Yes?" she inquired politely.

Charlie was still watching the rain; watching as rivulets of water ran down the window pane, watching as the grass danced under the downpour, becoming immersed in the wet outside world. It was strangely calming.

His reverie was broken when a voice intruded on his thoughts.

"The Dean wants to see Charles Conway."

He froze. He didn't need to turn around to see who was speaking. He could recognise that calm, chilling voice anywhere. The time he had been waiting, dreading and hoping for, had finally arrived.

He ignored the horrified glance Russ threw at him from across the classroom and the not-so-inconspicuous nudge in the ribs from Portman. Instead, he just glanced up at his history teacher, waiting for her consent. She nodded and, with a strangely leaden feeling in his stomach, he pushed back his chair and stood up.

He turned around and looked at the figure of the coach standing in the doorway, staring at him intently with icy blue eyes. Without breaking eye contact, he scooped up his bag from the floor and moved towards the door. His heart thudded slowly in his chest and he smiled grimly: never is a condemned man calmer than the night before he goes to the gallows.

He walked straight past his coach, into the corridor and, without hesitating, started off in the direction of the Dean's office. He heard the door shut behind him and then the heavy, unhurried footsteps of the blond man began following him, catching up.

Eden Hall during class time was strangely deserted and quiet, and there was certainly no conversation between them. They ghosted through the halls, the Coach, though he was behind, setting the pace: Charlie hurrying to keep ahead of the man, blood roaring in his ears.

When they reached the main corridor, Charlie made to turn left, to the Dean's office, but a heavy hand on his shoulder stopped him and propelled him right instead. Charlie didn't argue, knowing that this was solely between his Coach and himself, and understanding that, if his plan was to succeed, the Dean could have no part in these particular negotiations.

He wasn't particularly surprised when Reily led him out of the main building, across the campus, to the ice rink, though his heart did start thumping uncomfortably harder in his chest. He wondered, distractedly, if his Coach had been to his office yet this morning. Charlie hadn't planned on going anywhere near the icehouse today, for good reason, but he took in a shuddering breath and didn't stop walking. Reily would hardly allow him to escape now, anyway.

Into the building and down the rather gloomy passageway running adjacent to the ice rink, stopping at the doorway to the Coach's office, Reily smiled grimly and took the key from around his neck and slotted it into the lock. He glanced at the boy next to him, met his eyes and held them for a moment, before pushing open the door…

And found himself face to face with a duck.

The duck in question was sitting quite calmly on the man's desk, having made some sort of nest with the man's paperwork. It tilted its head on one side, regarding Reily through unblinking eyes, then slowly stood, opened its wings and began flapping.

That woke the other two ducks which had made themselves quite comfortable under the desk. They waddled out, saw the intruder, and began flapping as well; the three sets of wings causing quite a commotion in the small office space.

Reily had frozen on the spot at the sight of the birds and the mess of his room, then turned swiftly and focused his fiery eyes on the boy behind him, hands clenching into fists at his side. Charlie backed up a step or two, away from his Coach's fury, but his face remained impassive.

"Kick me out the team, and this all stops," he said quietly, giving the ultimatum he had thought so much about.

The man's eyes were glittering with anger, his nostrils flaring slightly as he drew in huge, ragged breaths, and he moved forward, roughly grabbed Charlie by the scruff of the neck and hauled him into the office. Throwing the boy against the far wall, Reily grabbed the duck on the table, ignoring its struggles and enraged quacking, and, with a loud crack, snapped its neck over his knee, smiling at the gasp of shock from Charlie. He threw the lifeless feathery form out of the open door, then turned to the other two birds and literally kicked them out, ignoring their indignant hissing and continued flapping. He then moved to the door, shut it calmly and locked it, then turned back to the boy.

Charlie hadn't moved from the wall he had been flung against. His eyes were wide and his face pale, not quite believing that the man had just killed the duck with his bare hands and with so little remorse. He shut his eyes and swallowed painfully, feeling responsible for the premature and undignified death of the bird. That hadn't been the plan when he had brought the ducks in here. That hadn't been the plan at all…

Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked up at the large man, new hateful respect showing in his eyes, fear making him feel dizzy and sick. The Coach looked him up and down, smiled tightly, then moved towards him. Charlie swallowed again, flicking his eyes to the right and left, looking desperately for an escape and finding none, so ended up just pressing himself further into the wall, a muscle jumping in his jaw as he clenched his teeth together in fear, not knowing what the man would do.

Reily stopped moving when he was near enough for Charlie to feel his hot breath on his cheek.

"Trying to manipulate me now, are we, Conway?" he asked, softly. "Trying to get yourself chucked out the team?"

He paused and smiled maliciously, reaching out a large hand and wrapping it slowly around the boy's throat, much as he had done to the duck, enjoying feeling the tremors that ran through the other's smaller body at his touch, and very aware of the quickened pulse of the boy's jugular against his thumb.

"Your games won't ever work as long as I'm in charge, Conway. You're mine and you will learn, once and for all, that you have no choice but to obey me."

That said, he slowly increased the pressure on Charlie's neck, squeezing tighter and tighter with his hand until muscles stood out on his forearm. Charlie gasped and tried desperately to push the other man off him, struggling violently in his grip, frantically trying to bring air into his deprived lungs.

"Do you understand?" Reily's voice was dark and demanding.

Charlie glared up at the man towering above him, hatred flowing freely through his veins, panic and pride battling in his mind. Surely the Coach wouldn't kill him? He was nasty but he wasn't homicidal. The school wouldn't have employed someone with murderous qualities. Would they? It wasn't right… they wouldn't have… it wasn't possible…

"I _said_, do you understand me?" the other man growled, eyes alight with fury at the boy's continued defiance. His hand squeezed a little bit tighter.

Charlie gasped as his throat was restricted even more, dark spots beginning to dance in front of his eyes, and finally nodded. "I understand you," he rasped, eyes locked with his Coach's.

"Good."

The man released him and, without his support, Charlie slid down onto the floor and slumped against the wall, bringing his knees up to his chest in a pathetic parody of protection, gulping in air to his oxygen-starved lungs.

The Coach smiled grimly and moved away from him, leaning back against his desk and regarding the boy's trembling figure. He didn't let himself feel victorious though. Not yet. He had thought he had defeated Conway last time and had been proven very wrong . He wasn't going to take any chances this time. He would have to make _doubly_ sure.

"You're pathetic, Conway, you know that? Absolutely fucking pathetic. You know how I knew it was you who was pulling all those stunts?" He paused, as if waiting for a reply, but Charlie didn't even raise his head. "Because I knew only you could be such a little_ kid_. You disgust me, Conway. You're lucky you piss me off enough that I won't let you ever leave the team. Hell knows your game isn't much to go by and you'd never get in anywhere else. You're a failure; a stupid little boy who thinks he's clever. Try growing up and being a man for once."

Charlie put his head onto his knees and curled his arms around himself, failing to prevent the hot tears from running slowly down his face. He was tired and hurting and feeling more lonely than he had ever done in his life, and the man's spiteful words were hitting him hard. He shuddered, a sob wracking his body.

Reily watched in malicious delight as the boy crumbled in front of him. "Look at you. You cry baby. Can't take the truth, can you? And you wondered why Bombay and Orion were so eager to leave you. You wondered why your mother remarried…"

Charlie slowly raised his head, not able to allow the man such a personal attack. "Fuck you," he whispered.

Reily pushed up off the table, deliberately, and moved towards him again, eyes flashing. Crouching down by the boy, he stared into his tear-streaked face for a moment, then grabbed him by the collar and hauled him back up, pinning him against the wall.

"Never," he spat, his face contorted in anger, "speak to me like that again."

And he raised his right hand, balled it into a fist, and smashed it into the boy's face.

Charlie's head jerked back and hit the wall with a dull thud, the boy emitting a strangled cry of pain and surprise. He had to concentrate very hard to not succumb to the blackness that lingered at the edge of his vision, his cheek throbbing from the blow, his head resounding from the shockwaves of impact.

The Coach regarded him critically for a moment, then smiled coldly. "Defiance is a hard game, Conway. Especially when you're playing against me."

He pulled back and grasped a hold of Charlie's face with one hand and jerked it upwards, forcing him to look directly into the man's face, earning himself another small cry of pain from the boy at the sudden movement.

"Remember that. I will win. _Always_."

Charlie wouldn't meet his eyes, defeated.

Reily felt a triumphant shiver run through him and, satisfied with a job well done, he dragged the boy's unresisting body to the door, unlocked it, then moved out into the corridor, locking the office after him.

He held Charlie close to him for a moment and growled deeply, "Don't even think of mentioning this to anyone. There's nowhere you could hide from me if you did. I would find you."

He pushed Charlie against the corridor wall and calmly walked away, not glancing back once.

Charlie slowly slid down the wall, eyes screwed tight against the onset of tears, and collapsed on the floor, curling up on the rough carpet, his cheek against the ground, trembling.

He lay like that for a while, desperately trying to get his emotions under control, desperately trying to stop the salt water that was flowing steadily down his cheeks, hating and fearing the Coach with every fibre of his aching body.

When the sobs that shook him had gradually receded, he slowly opened his eyes… and found himself face to face with the dead duck, its head hanging at an odd angle, its feathers ruffled and its eyes glazed and slightly bulging.

Charlie turned and retched emptily, the noise echoing down the empty corridor. There was no one to help him. No one. He continued retching, unable to stop. Not wanting to stop. For the first time, he felt he would rather just die than keep on living. It would be so much easier.

The dead bird watched him impassively with its staring eyes. A dead duck and a Duck that wanted to be dead. What a pair.

* * *

A/N Ok. Here's the deal. I've sort of lost interest in this fandom. I don't come on anywhere near as much as I used to and that is why I took so long in updating this damn story. However, I am prepared to go on with it if people want me to. At the moment, you guys are my only inspiration for writing this and, believe me, I need as much as I can get.

If there is interest, I'll probably be updating much quicker due to the lovely long holidays I am now on.

Review me if you think I deserve it. ::crawls back into cave::


	15. The Aftermath

A/N: I wanna apologise right now for saying that I would be updating "soon." I, being the idiot I am, forgot to realise that I was going on holiday for two weeks a couple of days after I had posted that last chapter.

So this here chapter is in the form of an apology. It's one of the most boring to date and one of the shortest, so it's rather a pathetic apology, truth be told. But it was either this or combining it with the next chapter, making it horrendously long, and probably meaning you guys would have had to have waited another four of five days to have got the end product. Please feel free to hate me.

On a brighter note, I wanna say thank you for all the beautiful reviews I've received for this travesty of a fic. As is my whim, I will be replying to them down the bottom. It's one of my little quirks. Forgive me.

As is vaguely obvious by my update, I will be continuing this story. This is due to three things: my own damn stubbornness, the amount of interest I've received and a rebirth for my love of the Ducks. I had an epiphany and decided it may be a good idea to watch one of them again. I am such an idiot, I swear.

So enjoy. Hopefully.

* * *

"Charlie!"

Adam opened the door of their dorm room excitedly.

"Charlie! You'll never guess what just happened! Finally! We may actually be able to…" he trailed off when the figure lying face down on the bed didn't respond.

"Charlie?"

Still no reply.

Adam frowned and moved softly over to the bed, reached out a hand and touched his Captain on the shoulder tentatively. "Spazway?" he asked, worriedly.

The body underneath him stiffened under the light contact. "What?" came the muffled reply, the quiet words almost totally absorbed by the pillow.

"You okay?"

Charlie hesitated, then raised his head reluctantly, staring fixedly at the headboard, not turning to face Adam. "I'm fine, Cake eater. Just tired." He sighed heavily. "And I'd appreciate some space right now." He swallowed and closed his eyes. Adam didn't move though. "Please?" he finished, desperately.

Adam frowned at the boy's uncharacteristic words, and looked closely at the profile of the other's face, his frown deepening at what he saw: his captain was pale, much more so than normal; the eye he could see was bloodshot, and Adam could have sworn he was trembling. The worries he had suppressed since lunchtime flooded back and he sat down, hard, on his own bed and stared fixedly at his friend.

"How was the meeting with the Coach this morning? I heard about it from Russ." he said, quietly.

Charlie's head jerked up slightly at the unexpected question and he swallowed convulsively, his mind groping for an answer. "It was okay, I suppose," he mumbled. "Took me to the Dean. Asked me whether I knew anything about the pranks. Said I didn't…" he trailed off, wondering if it sounded as lame and as unrealistic to Adam as it did to him.

It obviously did.

"Really?" the other boy's voice dripped sarcasm and he raised his eyebrow disbelievingly. "Where were you at lunch then? Huh? You can't say that it took over two hours for you to tell the Dean _that_."

He had told one lie; he might as well continue. "I had to go and get the work I missed from Mrs Grangewood. I had lunch in the library."

There was no way that Charlie was going to tell Adam what had happened. No way that he was going to say that he had crawled back to his room after the Coach had left him and had sat in his bed all day, _crying_, too shocked and scared and ashamed to move. There was no way in hell.

"Really?" Adam said, again, even more sarcastic this time, as if the idea of Charlie doing extra work was about as likely as Reily volunteering to wear a tutu to raise money for unhappy children.

Anger flashed through Charlie's eyes. Why couldn't Banks just leave him alone? Why did he always have to pester?

"Yes, _really_, Cake eater," he spat, still not looking at the boy. "Now are you gonna tell me what you came in here to say so you can get lost, or what?"

Adam watched Charlie for a moment, unblinking, then: "Bombay phoned," he intoned.

Charlie took a moment to make sure he hadn't just heard wrongly. Then he slowly smiled, realisation of what this might mean dawning, hope beginning to swell in his chest. Excitedly, he sat up and turned to face the other boy.

"For real?! He phoned? What did he…"

But Adam wasn't listening. His eyes were riveted on the side of Charlie's face that had just been revealed to him.

The bruise was dark purple, a dull shadow gracing the captain's cheekbone, contrasting vividly with the rest of the boy's pale skin. Blood had been brought to the surface and had collected under Charlie's right eye, which was half-closed, swollen and puffy, giving his face an oddly contorted appearance. The delicate skin over his cheekbone had been broken, grazed slightly, bringing a reddish tinge to the enflamed site.

It looked awful. And there was no doubt in Adam's mind what had happened.

He stood and moved towards the younger boy, towering over him, eyes still affixed to his face, wide with horror. Charlie swallowed, realising what he had done, realising what Adam could see, and immediately turned to the side again, eyes fixed on his pillow, breath catching in his throat.

"Did he do that?" Adam asked, his voice flat and emotionless.

Charlie had never heard Banks sound like that before in all the time he had known him, and he never wanted to again. His heart pumped faster, adrenaline and despair flowing through his veins, knowing that Adam knew. The truth was stamped across his face for anyone to see. Nothing he could do would hide it.

"Do what?" he asked, weakly, stalling.

Adam stood directly in front of the curly haired boy, jaw clenched so hard it must have hurt, and reached out, gently placing his hands on either side of Charlie's head and turning him to face him. Slowly, eyes still wide, mesmerised by the violent mark, he traced it lightly with one finger, carefully observing how Charlie flinched when his feathery touch flickered over the broken skin. At his cheekbone, the most enflamed area, he pressed slightly harder, assessing the damage, but the other boy emitted a slight gasp of pain and protest and pushed him away.

"Did who do what?" Charlie asked again, his voice stronger, though tinged with the strained undertones of pain.

There was a silence, Adam eyes still taking in the injury.

"Reily. He hit you." It was a statement, not a question, softly delivered, shock resonating in Adam's voice.

Charlie looked up at the other boy and saw the sympathy reflected deeply in his blue eyes. He hated him for it. He didn't need anyone's pity, especially not Banks'. They weren't even proper friends anymore.

He stood up sharply, flinching at the pain in his gut from where Reily had hit him. "Don't be so dramatic, Banks. I just walked into a door, ok? You need to get your head checked. Just because a guy is an angry SOB doesn't mean he's gonna start beating up his students. You're being stupid."

Adam was taken aback by his captain's outburst. He stood still for a moment, then gathered his thoughts, frustration brewing slowly inside of him for the other boy's denial.

"A door?!" he asked, incredulously. "You say you got _that_," he gestured to Charlie's right cheek and eye, "from a door? Did this door have homicidal tendencies or something?"

"You're amusing, you know that, Cake eater?" he said, dryly, annoyed. "If I _say_ it was a damn door then it _was_ a damn door!" He pushed past him roughly. "Why can't you just get lost and leave me alone?"

Adam took a deep breath and tried to control his emotions. Turning, he reached out and grabbed a hold of Charlie's upper arm, holding firm when the other boy tried to wrench free.

"Why do you lie to me, Charlie?" he asked, quietly. "Why do you always do this? It's so obvious what's happened!" He paused. "Why the hell are you protecting that bastard?"

Charlie stilled, breathing heavily, then turned to face the blond boy. "Don't _ever_ believe I would protect him," he said, softly, eyes burning in his bruised face.

"Then why do this?"

"It was a door, alright?" His voice was cracking under the strain.

"How original, Spazway," Adam spat. "You really excel yourself in making up these flawless excuses. Next time it'll be a penguin that's bitch slapped you, right?"

Charlie clenched his fists tightly at his side. "You're an asshole, Banks."

"I'm beginning to wonder the same about you."

The dark haired boy stared at him for a moment, eyes dark with fury, then twisted his arm viciously out of Adam's grip, striding angrily to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"I don't see that it's any of your business," he retorted, over his shoulder.

There was a pause. Then:

"Are you scared? Is that why?"

The question was quiet, serious, no hint of mockery in Adam's voice.

Charlie's hand froze on the doorhandle.

He shut his eyes tightly, pain shooting down the injured side of his face making him grimace, and seriously considered just turning around and telling his team mate everything. He didn't understand fully why he wasn't already.

But he didn't. He just took a deep breath and pushed open the door, making his way through it and down the corridor, leaving Adam standing still in the middle of their small dormroom, staring after him sadly.

* * *

Bombay watched from his parked Mercedes as the activity around Eden Hall slowed down to a crawl as the afternoon finished and the evening set in.

Cradling a polystyrene cup of coffee to his chest, he was reminiscing, remembering the good times he had had in the ancient brick establishment in front of him, as well as the bad.

It was strange how much school affected your younger years, he mused, taking a tentative sip at the scalding, dark liquid. A microcosm all of its own, no one aware of the bigger picture, everyone obsessed with preparing for the always ungraspable future. So much stress, so much pain, so much laughter and joy…

He was jerked out of his reverie by a slight tapping on the passenger window. He turned and leant across the seat, turning the door handle and pushing it open, smiling in greeting as Adam slid into the leather seat and shut the door after him. Receiving no smile in return, he frowned, worry flitting through his brain at the change in the boy he had only spoken to hours before. Then, Adam had been excited, happy, but there was no sign of either emotion in the boy's demeanour now.

"What's the matter?" he asked, concerned.

Adam sighed unhappily and turned to him, eyes angry. "It's Charlie."

Terror gripped Bombay for a moment. "What's happened?"

Adam clenched his fists in his lap, and didn't answer Bombay for a moment. Then, his voice deep with concealed emotion, he said, "He's hurt. Black eye. Told me he got hit by a door." He laughed harshly, then abruptedly stopped.

Bombay exhaled slowly, relief that Charlie hadn't been seriously hurt flooding his awareness. "You don't believe him?"

Adam shook his head, jerkily. "No way in hell did a door do that to him." He turned to the man next to him, eyes flashing angrily, speaking in deadly earnest. "It was Reily, Coach. I know it was. You have to believe me."

Bombay nodded consideringly, and sighed unhappily. "I have no doubt it was. That's why I'm here. I've found out some pretty interesting information on your coach."

Adam listened, wide eyed, as Bombay narrated to him his findings.

"Crap…" he muttered quietly to himself when the man was done. "Well that certainly explains a lot…"

Bombay rubbed the back of his neck, tiredly. "And it means I definitely have to find Charlie. Quickly. I don't want him around Reily any longer. He could get seriously hurt."

Adam nodded in understanding, hope and fear mingling in his chest. "I'll go try and find him. There aren't that many places he would want to be with his face in that state."

He pushed open the door, but, before he could leave, Bombay lightly grabbed a hold of his arm.

"Don't tell him anything of what I've told you, Adam. I want him to hear it from me, so he has no doubt that it's the truth. I'll try and get him to open up to me, try and get him to tell me what that man did to him."

Adam nodded again. "Sure thing, Coach."

Bombay leant back in his seat and looked at the blond boy, eyes intense with emotion.

"And, whatever you do, be careful with him, Adam. He's got to be hurting and scared. We have no idea to the extent of which Reily's actions have affected Charlie. He probably won't be too sure himself."

Adam swallowed, nodded, and left, shutting the door behind him.

Bombay leant back in his seat, worry etching itself into his mind, took up his coffee and took a long gulp of the still-steaming liquid, revelling in the burning sensation down his throat.

He would kill that bastard for hurting Charlie. He would _kill_ him.

* * *

A/N: Bombay has returned with a vengeance! ::belated cheer:: That was especially for **Sade** who has been rooting for his return for a while now. Lol.

I want to tell you that I think I may enjoy writing the next chapter. And it's going to be angsty. Which is a good sign. Though I don't know how long it's going to be due to the fact that it was actually meant to be on the end of this one.

The piece de resistance is the chapter after it. And I _know_ I'm going to enjoy that one_. _::evil grin::

And then the chapter after that is the final one! Yay! ::dances::

**Kristine**: Thank you. It's been a long time. I'm glad you haven't forgotten this sorry excuse of a story. Lol.

**Katie**: ::blushes:: Thank you for all the wonderfulness in that review. I hope you weren't too disappointed with this chapter. ::winces::

**BanksiesBabe**: You've read my story more than once? ::crickets chirp:: ::tumbleweed blows across the expanse of :: Wow. I read it again. The first chapters are scary. Lol.

**Chelsea**: Hun, I'm going to write you an email. I wouldn't be able to do your review justice here and I don't have time if I wanna post this tonight. Thank you. It was as sweet and lovely as always. ::big hug::

**Sade**: I hope you forgive me on the "soon" bit of your review. Lol. Mind you, compared to the last six month wait, this was damn speedy. I myself was shocked when Reily killed the duck. I swear I don't actually control him. ::is rather worried::

**Sarah**: Thank you for the review. I am amazed that you actually read this whole thing in its entirety. Lol.

**ShadowofMoonlight**: I just love the fact that you were the only one to take me up on my offer to hit me with a baseball bat. Even though you then went and changed time. Lol. Thank you for that. I felt inspired. And I just wanna thank you loads for taking the extra effort to continue trying to review me when was being screwy. ::hugs::

**Princess-sunshine**: Well… To tell you the truth, I was a little bowled over by your review. Lol. And, as a result, I'm still rather speechless when it comes to answering it. Thank you very much. That is a huge compliment!

**Nicole Westerhouse**: It will finish. Sooner or later, it will end. ::sighs happily:: And, though I was absolutely thrilled by the fact that you read my other story, I've got to express my doubts on finishing that one as well. I thought I had a plot, and, as time progressed, I came to realise how crap that plot truly was. Please forgive me.

**Smartass**: I swear I thought this was a flame when I first saw it. Lol. I am extremely paranoid. Thank you for the lovely review though. I am exceptionally proud about my Charlie being "more developed" than other Charlies out there. ::big grin::

**Poopy**: Your review was certainly original. I believe I may have laughed out loud. Thanks for reading it.

**To the all mysterious "me": **I am going to take a profound leap of fate and declare thee "Kate". Though I am amazed that it is you. I thought you had disappeared into the black abyss of normality. Lol. Thank you for taking the time and effort to continue reviewing. was certainly screwed up when I posted my story. I am amazingly happy that you're still reading it. Express my condolences to your sister for being hit over the head. Lol.

**Sloane Miette**: I want to say a heart felt thank you for your review. It certainly made me stop and think exactly where I was going with this. And though this chapter may seem forced due to its absurd boringness, I want to tell you that it's not. I watched D3 again, a couple of nights ago, and I got shivers at the end. I had really forgotten that I loved the films that much. Thank you for your concern and your honesty, but I want to give you the joyful news that I will be dragging this story, kicking and screaming, all the way to the finishing post. ::grins:: ::starts training for heavy exertion::

**Hockey Luvva**: Thankyou, again, for the mulitple review, kick up the backside. I also want to thank you heartily for preventing the urge to whack me over the head. I do love you, I hope you realise. ::grins::

**Claire**: Thank you very much! I can't believe you managed to read the entire thing. Lol.

**Red**: Thank you. I think that's the first "intense" I've got. ::blushes a horrendous shade of magenta::


	16. Revelations

**A/N: **So here it is. I decided to merge two chapters into one and the result is this horrendously long thing. It's the part which I've been imagining/raving about for weeks, and it has occurred to me that it would be a lot better if it was in film format. 'Twas rather difficult to write and hasn't turned out as nice as it could have done.

::put upon sigh::

**DEDICATION: **To Chelsea dearest, just for being herself and for leaving me such kick ass reviews.

**WARNING: **Before I forget _again_, I need to warn people that my story contains vile/inappropriate/rude/naughty/offensive/great words. The author apologises but recognises the fact that she herself is vile/inappropriate/rude/naughty/offensive/great, and knows that the plethora of swear words just can't be helped. Sorry. ::grins::

I hope you all enjoy this offering and forgive me in taking such a while to update. For once, it wasn't this story that was the problem, more like it was myself. I haven't been able to write _anything_, recently. Total block.

Hope you like.

* * *

It was Friday morning at Eden Hall. Nine o' clock. Assembly.

There had been a time at the old school when assembly had been looked forward to as the highlight of the week. A chance to celebrate school successes; an opportunity to commend individuals for outstanding deeds; a time when the troubles of the outside world could be put into perspective; a meeting to refresh the sense of community and harmony within the school's walls.

Not any more, though.

Times had changed. People had changed. And, in the twenty-first century world, teenagers could think of much more productive ways to spend half an hour of their free time. Generally through sleeping.

As the pupils spilled into the large, echoing hall, there was a loud hubbub of noise: chairs scraping backwards against the polished wooden floor; excited babbling of the younger, more enthusiastic, students; loud, prolonged yawns from the seniors who had been up all night studying; girls redoing their hair and gossiping; a couple of jocks play fighting and, above it all, the frustrated yells of the teachers, all trying desperately to maintain some sense of order in the sea of chaos that was high school.

Into this, the Ducks entered.

They were quiet, grim, moving as one tight knot through the crowd. Their eyes were fixed straight ahead, daring anyone to get in their way, their gaze occasionally flickering to the centre of the group, focusing on the one individual there, then looking swiftly away again.

Charlie pretended not to feel their scrutiny. Head bowed, cap down low, he stared resolutely at the floor, unwilling to meet any of his friends' significant looks, unwilling to show his face to the other residents of Eden Hall, desperately not wanting to be the subject of any more speculation.

The last fifteen hours or so had been a surreal, uncomfortable experience.

He hadn't slept much last night, Bombay's words replaying themselves in his mind, hammering into his consciousness. His old Coach's news – the revelation about Reily – had made him giddy with relief when he had first heard it. He had made Bombay repeat it all after he had finished, not wanting to have misunderstood any of it, wanting to make sure that the joy bubbling up inside of him, already making his heart beat louder and his hands shake, wasn't just some cruel joke. When it had finally sunk in that there was a possibility of escape, he had sat silently, eyes focused on some far away point, happiness engulfing him.

But then the questions had come. Questions about his face. Questions about what Reily had done. Had said. He hadn't wanted to answer them; had felt ashamed at the weakness he was showing in front of the man he considered to be the closest thing to a father he had ever had.

But Bombay had pushed. Had been sympathetic but demanding. Hadn't allowed him to mumble something incoherent and slip away. So Charlie'd had no choice but to tell him, the words tripping from his mouth in a broken, stuttering, unsure stream. And Bombay had held him close as the words slowly dried up and the sobs began. Had murmured soothingly in his ear. Had told him he was never alone. Had told him they would get the bastard.

Had told him that everything would be alright.

And Charlie had believed him. He had wanted everything to be like it had been before so badly that it was like a constant ache in his gut. They had walked to the ice rink together, Charlie slightly behind the other man, and had retrieved the important little device that had been left there that morning. Then Charlie had hugged his Coach and made his way back to the dormitories, not noticing Banks' uncharacteristical silence under the onslaught of his own thoughts.

The doubts had set in then, doubts which still hadn't left him, plaguing his dreams and preventing him from rest. What if something went wrong? What if _Bombay _was wrong? What would Reily do if he found out that Charlie was trying to get rid of him again…?

He had woken the next morning, his neck stiff and his mind clouded and foggy, his bruised eye throbbing. He had got dressed, slowly pulled his Ducks' jersey over his head, hiding himself in the enveloping folds, finding strange comfort in the material he had once found so much joy in. Shoving on a cap and pulling it down until it shadowed his face, hiding his eye as much as possible, he had looked at Adam who was sitting on his own bed, dressed and ready to go, their eyes locking for a long moment. Thoughts and feelings passed between them in dense silence. Then Banks had nodded towards the door, and Charlie knew it was time to go.

He had felt sick.

The Ducks, unexpectedly waiting outside his dorm door, had not made his rebellious stomach quieten down. Had made it worse, if possible. Their serious, curious eyes had immediately focused on his face, and the aghast silence that followed told him that it had probably been a good thing that he had spared himself the trouble of looking in a mirror that morning.

They had slowly gathered around him, hands clenched into angry fists, eyes still wide with shock, closing their flanks about him as if protecting him from some outside, unseen enemy. Portman had stopped in front of him, teeth gritted, hand reaching out as if to touch the abused flesh of his Captain's right eye, then had growled and dropped his arm, face contorted into a furious scowl. A heavy hand dropping onto his shoulder had made Charlie start slightly, and he had turned to stare at Fulton who was looking at him with intense, dark eyes.

"You should have told us," he had murmured quietly.

And Charlie could do little more than nod, his eyes burning, throat dry, unable to utter a word as they slowly made their way through the corridors, passing through the school traffic, down one flight of stairs to the ground floor, then onto the hall and the awaiting assembly.

They shuffled inelegantly into their seats, some of the team in front of Charlie, some of them behind, Adam and Julie next to him. A ring of protection. He stared at the floor, abjectly wishing the whole nightmare away, wanting little more than to just curl up into a tight ball and shut everything out.

He wanted to talk to Bombay – needed the man to reassure him that everything would be alright. He wanted to talk to Banksie, sitting stiffly beside him – wanted to tell him what had _really_ happened between Reily and him. He needed human contact so badly – human contact of his own age – and regret welled up like bile in his throat, choking him. If only he could have forgiven Adam. If only he hadn't pushed him away. How much of this hurt could he have been spared? How much had his stubbornness cost him, _yet again_?

He needed his best friend back. He needed him back more than anything.

He closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep, shuddering breath, then turned and opened his mouth, ready to say something to the other boy. Anything. Not really caring what words came out, just so long as they were enough to ease the overwhelming misery and loneliness that consumed him.

"Banksie, I…" he paused, his mouth suddenly dry, as the other boy turned to face him, sad, blue eyes watching him worriedly.

"What is it?" Adam asked softly, concern apparent in just those three small words.

"I…" Charlie trailed off, past events flashing through his mind. _Adam moving away from him when he was hurt. Adam saying he'd do it again if asked. Adam being more concerned about hockey than his best friend…_

He paused for a long moment.

"Nothing. Sorry." He turned in his seat again, hurt flaring to life within him once more.

How could he have forgotten?

Adam frowned slightly. "Are you…" but he was interrupted by the sudden silence that descended as Dean Buckley stood up on the stage, ready to speak.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," he called exuberantly, somehow always managing to appear excited about the tedious thirty minutes stretching before him. "We have a little bit of a treat in store for you today. A rather unexpected one for us all. It is my pleasure to welcome back to Eden Hall a man I am sure all of you have seen in the news at some point. I know many of the hockey enthusiasts out there hold this man in high regard, some even aspiring to follow in his footsteps." He paused, enjoying the suspense and the sudden interest his words had brought about, not used to soliciting such attention. "Allow me to introduce the creator of the Ducks legacy, the Minnesota Miracle Man, the coach who brought ice hockey back to America during the Goodwill Games: Gordon Bombay!"

The Dean gestured eagerly to the back of the hall, the double doors swinging open to admit one man.

The applause was deafening as Bombay himself walked up through the aisles of seats. Gordon Bombay was the closest thing to a celebrity Eden Hall had ever produced, and they were proud of it. It seemed as if the assembly wouldn't be as bad as they had all been gloomily expecting.

Charlie just sank lower in his seat.

Bombay reached the stage and slowly climbed up the steps. He nodded at Buckley who beamed at him, then sat back down, the applause dying down slowly as he did so. The Coach stood up to the podium and smiled grimly at the sea of expectant, upturned faces before him, his eyes lingering on one brown, curly haired, hat covered head for a moment, before roughly clearing his throat.

"I need to apologise to you all, the Dean especially. I went to him yesterday and told him that I would love to take an assembly and talk to you all about what to expect of the upcoming Goodwill Games." He paused, face entirely serious. "I lied."

There was an uncomfortable silence, pupils and teachers giving each other confused glances.

Bombay continued, however. "I'm here to talk to you about something much more serious than hockey; an atrocity that has happened _here_, in this very school." He waited, allowing the words to sink in.

"This year, the school hired a new coach to teach hockey. A coach by the name of John Reily," he spat the name out, grimacing as if it had left a horrid taste in his mouth. "A couple of weeks ago, a member of the hockey team contacted me and told me there was something seriously wrong with the new coach. The individual told me that Reily put them through unorthodox practices, imposed new, senseless rules that seemed to have little reason other than to make the team's life as miserable as possible and was, quite simply, quote and unquote: 'a sadistic bastard'."

Bombay sighed heavily and rested his weight on the speaker's stand. "I'm very protective of my Ducks, as I'm sure you all know, but even I found these allegations difficult to swallow. Whatever may be the general belief, hockey coaches aren't meant to be the spawn of the devil. But I checked it out anyway. Asked a couple of my lawyer friends to see what they could come up with…"

The Dean, who had been looking on in some sort of paralysed daze, suddenly shook himself and stood, a small, confused smile on his face "Gordon, I don't know whether it's such a good idea to talk about John without his permission, but if this is a joke I'd strongly suggest…"

Bombay turned and fixed the man with a hard look. "This is no joke, Dean," he said, quietly. "And I would appreciate it if you would let me have the thirty minutes you promised me. This is something you will want to hear."

The old man nodded slightly, still bemused, but sank back down into his seat.

Bombay turned back to the school, forehead crinkled for a moment as he tried to remember where he had been. Then it smoothed out. "It was a lot more difficult to find anything about a hockey coach called John Reily than it rightly ought to have been. Almost impossible, you could say. And it was that fact which finally got me suspicious. I broadened my search to hockey in general and one name kept on popping up."

He paused. "I'm sure some of you hockey followers have heard about a man called Jonathon Reily, who played for the Boston Bruins in the early ninety's. The man whose illegal check shattered Farren Klark's right kneecap and tore two of his ligaments, effectively destroying all of the NHL hopes for Klark, who had been dubbed the next Gretsky."

Bombay sighed heavily, perhaps reminiscing on what could have been for him, the audience waiting impatiently on baited breath for him to continue. After a couple of moments, the man did.

"This Jonathon Reily then disappeared into thin air. The gossip at the time was that one of the many death threats coming his way after the incident may have actually found its target. But that wasn't true. What was kept out of the tabloids was that Jonathon Reily, after he had been kicked out of the NHL, had actually been put into some sort of protection program, to keep him safe from any maniacal fans out for his blood. He changed his name and became Jonathon _Wilson_, who then became a high school hockey coach in Canada."

He reached down to the floor and produced his briefcase, opening it swiftly and bringing out a couple of legal looking papers. "Jonathon Wilson, a couple of months into term, was then arrested for physical child abuse against one of his players. The case was never taken to court though, as the victim refused to testify against the man, the detective leading the case alleging that the boy was too scared to."

There was a deafening silence throughout the hall.

"Wilson then disappeared from all records, but a couple of years later Jonathon Reily reappeared in the form of _John _Reily, who then applied for a teaching position at this school and was granted it. John Reily, of course, had no child abuse staining his record, that misdemeanour having died along with his alias in Canada, making it possible for any background check for teaching qualifications to be all clear."

Slowly, Bombay turned and held out the documents to the Dean who had gone extremely pale, staring wide eyed at the man before him.

"John Reily is Jonathon Wilson. I suggest you call the police immediately."

Buckley took a deep breath and stood, ignoring the proffered documentation. "I suppose you have good proof for this, Bombay? These are the most serious allegations you can accuse a teacher of. This story you've just told seems extremely far-fetched and I can't help but wonder if perhaps your love of your old hockey team has made you jump to a few rash conclusions."

The Coach looked at him for a moment, head slightly inclined to one side, then moved to the sound system at the edge of the stage, hand groping for something in his pocket as he moved. Bringing out a tape, he swiftly turned the machine on and inserted it into the open compartment and pressed play.

Static filled the air for a moment, then the recording begun.

_A door opening, feet entering a room, then silence. Suddenly, a strange flapping noise began, making the receiver crackle and buzz, getting louder and louder._

_Over the interference, a voice could be heard. A boy's voice, soft, quiet. "Kick me out the team, and this all stops."_

With those words, the students of Eden Hall all turned to regard the Ducks with new found interest, all now knowing that it had to be one of their number. The team just stared right back at them, hard, cool glares, making even the most curious pupils turn back in their seats, feeling slightly embarrassed.

The tape played on.

_Heavy breathing could just be made out over the other, unknown, commotion. Then suddenly a slight gasp of surprise and a muffled thud, as if the unknown boy had just been thrown against something solid._

_The flapping got louder, more insistent, until it was finally stopped by a loud crack. A sharp intake of breath, loud, as if it was right next to the recording device, then a muffled hissing and what sounded like quacking, getting more frenzied, then slightly quieter and, finally, stopping altogether._

_A door being quietly shut, the smooth click of a key being turned. A pause. Then footsteps moving closer, nearer to the microphone._

_"Trying to manipulate me now, are we, Conway?" A heavy voice, unmistakeably Reily's, asked softly. "Trying to get yourself chucked out the team?"_

Charlie kept his gaze fixed firmly on the polished surface of the floor, his sight unfocused, as he heard the rustle of clothes shifting as people craned around to look at him. Felt his cheeks burning in humiliation as their eyes studied him, judging him. He reached up with one hand and pulled the cap on his head down lower, shielding his face, not wanting them to see his eye, knowing it was useless because they would know soon enough anyway.

_"Your games won't ever work as long as I'm in charge, Conway. You're mine and you will learn, once and for all, that you have no choice but to obey me." Reily's voice was dark, undercurrents of menace running through the words as he spoke._

_A loud, pained gasp, then the sounds of a desperate struggle and pained, choking gasps._

_"Do you understand?" Spoken slowly, with relish._

_A long, drawn out silence._

_"I _said_, do you understand me?" A growl._

_Then another short, sharp gasp, louder this time. "I understand you." The words rasped, full of pain._

_"Good."_

_A dull sound as a body fell to the floor, then loud, uncontrolled, panicky breaths, magnified and distorted slightly by the recorder._

_Then soft footsteps moving away._

Charlie screwed his eyes tight shut, not wanting to listen to the bit he knew was coming next. Desperately not wanting all the preppies at the school knowing his fear and humiliation. The words had been bad enough when they had only been addressed to himself, but for the whole school to know what had happened in that room was unthinkable. What if they agreed with Reily?

He shuddered in his hard, wooden seat, moving his arms to wrap around his aching, exhausted body. Why he had agreed to allow Bombay to do this, he had no idea. How he had thought he could sit calmly and relive it all again, was beyond him. Never had he felt so unbelievably exposed.

His eyes burned as his pain and weakness was broadcasted for everyone to judge him by, the recording continuing, regardless of his thoughts and feelings. The cold, slightly mechanical drawl of Reily filling the hall once more.

_"You're pathetic, Conway, you know that? Absolutely fucking pathetic. You know how I knew it was you who was pulling all those stunts?"_

_A heavy pause._

_"Because I knew only you could be such a little _kid_. You disgust me, Conway. You're lucky you piss me off enough that I won't let you ever leave the team. Hell knows your game isn't much to go by and you'd never get in anywhere else. You're a failure; a stupid little boy who thinks he's clever. Try growing up and being a man for once."_

_One quiet, uncontrollable, sob._

Charlie's eyes burned as he listened to the hateful words for the second time, reliving that day, that room in a swirling conflict of emotion.

Suddenly, a hand grasped his shoulder from behind and squeezed gently. Reassuring him. Comforting him.

He wasn't alone this time.

_Reily's voice held unconcealable malicious delight. "Look at you. You cry baby. Can't take the truth, can you? And you wondered why Bombay and Orion were so eager to leave you. You wondered why your mother remarried…"_

_"Fuck you." Barely more than a whisper, the microphone only just picking it up, slightly distorting the words._

A slight gasp rippled through the assembly. The whole hall went deadly still, hearts racing, ears straining despeartely to pick up the slightest of sounds from the loud speaker, dreaded anticipation at what the man's reaction would be swirling through their veins.

_Footsteps again. Coming closer._

_A pause._

_Then a scuffling, the sound of a struggle, harsh breathing. Then all was quiet again._

Never_ speak to me like that again." Reily's voice held deadly fury._

_A dull, sickening smack, like a piece of blunt metal hitting into a piece of meat, and a sharp cry of pain, jerked off by a muffled thud._

Everyone sat in shocked silence, disbelief written across their features, none of them wanting to believe what they had just heard. The sounds had been unmistakable, though. They all knew what had happened.

They turned to look at the boy the majority of them had only known as "Captain Duck"; sad, sympathetic eyes taking in his hunched posture, his quivering form, his head bowed down as low as possible.

And, in that moment, Eden Hall was united in one mutual feeling. The hatred of one man. Reily.

_"Defiance is a hard game, Conway. Especially when you're playing against me." _

_The sounds of movement and another small cry of pain._

_"Remember that. I will win. _Always.

_Then more footsteps, moving away, the sound of something being dragged, muffled scuffling._

_Then the click of a door being shut._

_Silence._

The tape whirred slightly, then ground to a halt.

No one moved for a long, drawn out moment.

Then the Dean stood up shakily, glanced at Bombay, then slowly made his way off the stage, down the steps. He walked down through the centre aisle as if in a daze, hundreds of pairs of eyes watching him, then stopped and turned, moving through the chairs until he stopped by a specific one, his gaze riveted on the boy sitting stiffly in it. Reaching out a hand, he gently touched the boy's shoulder.

Charlie flinched slightly, thoughts running through his mind, paused, then took a deep shuddering breath and raised his head to look at the old man standing over him.

A gasp rippled through the hall.

Dean Buckley blinked, taking in the abused, green and purple bruising flesh of Charlie's right eye without comment. Then he swallowed, slightly, his eyes filled with intense sorrow.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, hoarsely. "Oh God forgive me, I'm so very sorry."

He turned then, his eyes flashing, his teeth gritted.

"Call the police," he ground out. "_Now_."

* * *

**A/N: **::sings:: One more chapter to go… One more chapter to go… ::beams happily::

**xXxSarahxXx: **Thank you for your review. Hope this was angsty enough. ::worried glance at aforementioned chapter:: It was angsty in my head. Honest.

**Katie: **I think I've got people paranoid that I will never return. Lol. Rest assured, I'm going to finish this damn thing, even if it kills me. And that was a lovely review, dearest. Made me smile in unabashed joy. Thank you.

**Banksiesbabe99: **I think you'll like the next chapter. Is that an Adam/Charlie reconciliation I see in the distance? Lol, quite possibly. Thank you for your review, dear.

**Poopy the Window Sweller: **I love you. Blip. Hope you enjoyed.

**udontknowme: **Thank you!

**Angel Spirit: **Well, I hope this is revenge enough for you, lol. I was gonna have Bombay go all kung fu on Reily's ass, but then decided to make my story at least somewhat believable. Emilio Estevez isn't the biggest guy out there after all. Lol.

**To the all mysterious "me", otherwise known as "Kate" but not the Kate I claim a vague acquaintance with: **I am truly flummoxed by the coincidence. Truly. It's very odd. Anyways, thank you for your review. I rather liked the penguin line as well. Lol.

**Chelsea: **It's true. I fear Kate (not the all mysterious me) has upped and vanished. I do rather like your conspiracy theory of the black abyss in Kansas. I blame the worms. ::nods:: Eating all that soil… I hope you got my email, dearest. Your reviews are the highlight of the fandom and I look forward to them rather like Christmas. Seriously. ::tackle hugs::

**Sloane Miette: **Hurrah for polite society! Where would we be without it? Probably eating with our fingers and not replacing the loo roll. ::grins:: And I'm extraordinarily happy that you appreciated that last chapter. I really was rather annoyed with it for being difficult. A new pair of sneakers sounds rather delightful, btw. Thank you.

**Red: **Oh dear. I just know I should be apologising when people send me more than one review. Thank you, dearest. I need a kick up the backside now and again, and your second review certainly provided one. Unfortunately, I was gonna have Bombay go all kung fu on Reily's ass, but then decided to make my story at least somewhat believable. Emilio Estevez isn't the biggest guy out there after all. Lol. I hope you found this method of revenge ok, though. hugs And I'm hoping all the drastic methods you threatened me with only entail the second review… ::is slightly worried::

**Ice Cube: **!!! ::squeals happily:: You're back! Oh happy times! ::is rather noticeably excited:: I hope this was worth the wait and I find you rather amusing high on energy drink. Lol. ::hands you high sugar drink inconspicuously::

**Hockeyluvva: **Your four year old cousin? I feel the need to coo adoringly. That's so sweet! I hope you censor all the bad words, though. Lol. And thank you for your kind words, dear. This story is far from fantastic, but if people can believe that it is, there's hope yet.


	17. Bittersweet Endings

**A/N: **So this is it. All good (and appallingly bad) things must come to an end, so we can all now give a collective sigh of relief that it's _Defiance is a Hard Game_'s turn. Thank you to all my stoical readers that have put up with me over the year plus this story's seventeen chapters have taken me to write.

**Dedication: **This chapter is for all the Adam supporters out there, but especially for **BanksiesBabe99**, who's been reading from the very beginning and has been rooting for a Charlie/Adam reconciliation for about the same amount of time. :-)

And special thanks to **Ice Cube**. I blame her and her rather amusing pestering for this story being completed. Love you, dearest, and thanks.

This is the first time I've ever completed a multichaptered story (I'm sure you all would never have guessed), so before I get too emotional to manage it, here it is. Chapter Seventeen, in all it's melodramatic glory!

* * *

Charlie cheered hoarsely as Julie the Cat just managed to save a goal and shifted slightly, grimacing as pain shot up through his right ankle. He had taken his skates off and had propped his leg up on the bench next to him, cautiously pressing an icepack to his injured foot, desperately trying to keep an eye on the game whilst still casting the injury that prevented him from playing critical glares.

Typical. It was absolutely typical. First game of the season and he was already out of it. An illegal check which the bastard hadn't even been called up for by the blind ref, and his throbbing foot was "only twisted". Charlie cast Bombay a sulky glance. His ankle certainly didn't _feel_ "only twisted", though Bombay, after much excruciating prodding and turning, had casually decided fit to call it so, unceremoniously throwing Charlie the icepack after helping him off the ice and back to the stands.

So here he was, helplessly watching his team lose from the rink side, and a stupid "only twisted" ankle to blame for it all. But still, Charlie was happier than he had been in a long time, though that wasn't much to go by, past events taken into account.

The police hadn't got John Reily, the man having vanished into thin air by the time they had arrived on that Friday morning, but that was a mere technicality. Even a week later, the fact that the man was out of his life forever couldn't fail to bring a small smile to Charlie's face. The Ducks enjoyed the return of their freedom with renewed vigour and the whole situation was made doubly sweet by Bombay's agreement to stay on as temporary coach until a new one could be found.

Of course, there were still painful reminders of Reily's time spent at Eden Hall, reminders which would take time and patience to disappear completely. The bruise which marred Charlie's face had only just begun to fade, and it was still an uncomfortable point of gossip around the school. He was stared at in the corridors, in the dining hall, in the classrooms, and he knew that they were talking about him, teachers and pupils alike, and he could only hope that he wouldn't be forever known as _the boy that was abused_ and pitied for it. Already his grades had inched fractionally higher – something he certainly hadn't asked for – and, looking around now, he had never seen the ice rink so packed full of people for just an ordinary league game, all cheering for the Ducks, all cheering for him. It rankled him: he hadn't deserved this recognition before being hit, so why should Reily's animosity towards him make things change? It was as if he was benefiting from his old coach, indebted to him, and the very thought made Charlie want to throw up.

The sound of the half time bell cut through his thoughts and he jerked his head up as his friends made their way off the ice, immediately regretting the quick action as his foot shifted slightly, causing a sharp stab of pain to resonate up his leg.

"Hey, dude." Fulton skidded up to the boards and leant his big body over them. "How's the ankle?"

"It's fine."

A pause. "You sure?"

Charlie shut his eyes and nodded once in affirmation, biting back an angry retort. Fulton didn't mean anything by his query, but it just highlighted another thing that had changed. A week ago, Fulton wouldn't have pressed, wouldn't have asked again, wouldn't have questioned his Captain's words. But now he did, they all did, and Charlie didn't know whether it was because of some vestige need to protect him, or whether it was because they simply didn't trust him anymore – couldn't, after his silence concerning Reily's actions towards him.

The only one who didn't do it was Banks – but he hardly spoke to him at all anymore, so it didn't really count. Banks just stared at him, an undecipherable emotion in his blue eyes. Occasionally, when Charlie looked at him pointedly, eyebrows raised, the other boy would open his mouth as if to say something, then shut it fast and look away. But not for long. Whenever Charlie would next glance his way, the blue eyes would always be fixed on him again from across the room. It was unsettling and Charlie just wanted to yell at him, or hit him, or hug him, or… or something. Maybe talk to him? He simply didn't know, was only aware of the fact that whatever it was between them would have to change. And soon. He couldn't take the awkward silences in their dorm room anymore. Maybe one of the other guys would swap with him?

It was strangely painful having to sit through the halftime pep talk without actually having to listen because he wasn't playing. It wasn't even like the time in the Goodwill Games when he had been Assistant Coach, though that had been secretly bad enough. This time, he didn't even feel capable of giving any directions, though Bombay covered pretty much everything anyway.

Slowly, wincing slightly, he stood up and hobbled his way to the door, careful not to trip up over any discarded hockey equipment.

"Charlie, are you okay?"

He stopped and leant against the plexiglass, gritting his teeth slightly. "I'm fine," he replied shortly. "Just going to the bathroom." He didn't need to turn around to know that they were all staring at him.

A long pause, the shouts and calls from the crowd ringing in his ears strangely muted, then a hand tentatively touched his shoulder.

"Let me take you. You don't want to do anymore damage to your foot, Spazway. Come on, lean on me."

Charlie turned his head slightly and regarded the other boy. Adam had a determined set to his jaw, his gaze strong and steady, but the quaver in his soft voice belied him and revealed his fear of rejection. Charlie could simply ignore him and walk – hobble – on, but he didn't. Instead, he sighed and allowed his right arm to be manhandled over Adam's neck, and together they exited the team box, making slow but steady progress towards the changing rooms.

When they reached the blue painted doors, Adam pushed them open, allowing Charlie to move in front of him, then stood in the doorway, watching his Captain with an unsure expression on his face. Charlie ignored him and went into the walled off toilet section, relieved himself, then limped back out into the main area and sat down at one of the benches, bringing his foot up and pressing at it tenderly.

"Charlie?"

"Yeah?" He didn't look up.

"We need to talk."

He nodded slightly. "We do."

There was an awkward silence, then Adam, still in his skates, clomped his way over and sat next to him.

There was a long pause. Then: "Charlie, I've done some stuff I haven't been proud of over the last few weeks. Said some stuff to you that perhaps came out in the wrong way and I…"

"Don't." A fierce whisper.

"What?" Adam was confused and removed his eyes from where they had been firmly fixed on his hands to glance up at his Captain.

"Don't apologise to me. Too many damn people have been doing that over the last few days."

A silence.

"Because of _him_?"

Charlie could have screamed his frustration. "_Him_? Whose _him_, Cake Eater? Do you mean _John Reily_?" he spat the words. "Our old coach? The guy who hit me? That _him_?"

Adam was still for a moment. "A lot of people been doing that too?"

Charlie let out a harsh laugh. "You might say so. With all the conversations I've had with the Dean since Friday, I don't think I've heard him say John Reily once. Why don't we just call him _he-who-must-not-be-fucking-named_ and be done with it?"

Adam shook his head sadly. "You haven't talked to anyone about this, have you?"

Charlie paused, his anger leaving him. "Who do I have left to tell?" he asked softly, his eyes finding the floor.

"'Who do you…?' God, Charlie, you have the entire team! You have Bombay! You have the school shrink, if you're that desperate!" He paused and drew in a deep breath. "You have me," he finished, quietly.

Charlie looked up at him, their eyes meeting for a long moment; Adam was the first to look away.

"Things haven't been that great between us for a while now, Banksie, in case you hadn't noticed," Charlie remarked, wryly. He turned to inspect his foot again, his voice coming out muffled. "And things are hardly any better with the team. They act like they're scared I'm going to break if they say the wrong thing, or if I go unescorted to a classroom." He laughed slightly, then sobered once more. "And I've talked to Bombay… sort of. I just can't seem to…" He sighed. "It's difficult."

"But what if you…"

The sound of a whistle sharply blown interrupted them and they both looked towards the door. There was a heavy pause.

"Go," Charlie intoned, returning to his foot. "I'll be back to watch in a moment."

Adam hesitated, torn. "Charlie, listen, I…"

"It's okay," Charlie said, wondering if the statement sounded as false to Banks as it did to him. "Go." A slight smile. "We're losing remember."

Adam slowly got to his feet and looked down at his Captain once more, before nodding and making his way to the door. "I'll see you out there," he said, unhappily.

"Yeah."

And the door swung open and Adam was gone, leaving Charlie alone with his miserable thoughts once more.

* * *

"Alright, Banks, Portman, Fulton, Germaine and Russ. You're up."

Adam sat on the team bench, his eyes focused on the door to the changing rooms. It had been five minutes and still Charlie hadn't shown up like he'd said he would. Adam had an inexplicable churning ball of worry in the pit of his stomach, and whatever rationale he put to it (Charlie's ankle was hurting him, Charlie had lost track of time, Charlie'd got fed up and had gone back to the dorm), it still refused to budge.

"Banks!"

Adam's head jerked up, looked from his Coach to the ice, then back again, nodded, and got up, shaking the thoughts of Charlie from his head. They were two goals down after all, and he needed all his concentration on the game if they were going to have a hope of winning it.

Out on the ice though, things didn't get any better. More often than not, his eyes were fixed in the direction of the changing rooms instead of on the puck. His shot was off and his single attempt at a steal had gone so badly that it was embarrassing. _Where the hell was Charlie? _

Bombay signalled for timeout and the whistle was blown. The other Ducks on the ice began skating towards their Coach, but Adam didn't move, his eyes flickering nervously from his team to the changing room doors, then back again, unable to shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. His heart was thudding uncomfortably loudly in his chest and the blood was roaring in his ears, and, with a moment's contemplation, he knew what he was going to do. Knew how utterly foolish he was being, but didn't care. Knew that he couldn't stop himself.

"To hell with this," he murmured, and slipped his helmet off, casting an apologetic glance at Bombay who was watching him with a bemused expression on his face, then began skating full speed towards the exit, ignoring the confused shouts from his friends.

Once off the ice, he didn't stop, momentum and an insane panic carrying him forwards, shoving bodily through a couple of people, jogging in his skates until he was at the changing room doors. Pushing through them, he paused, his gut twisting painfully when a quick survey of the room told him what he had been dreading: no Charlie.

"Spazway?" he called loudly, panting, hoping against hope that the other boy would answer, hoping he was in the toilet, or hidden in a damn locker… anything. But there was no reply.

Hurriedly, Adam sat down on the bench he had left Charlie sitting on and began pulling off his skates, not fully understanding the cause of the fear which was almost choking him. Then, clad only in socks, he ran out of the room and into the foyer, disconcerted to find it empty and void of human life. _Of course, everyone would be at the game._

Slipping and sliding across the polished floor, he exited the ice rink house and stared about him with wide eyes, his hands shaking almost imperceptibly.

"Charlie!" he yelled. An awful silence greeted his call. "Charlie!" he choked out again, his image blurring.

He began running again, this time to the main building, his wool clad feet soaking up the mud and dampness from the ground beneath him, incomprehensible panic eating away at him. As he passed the car park en route to the dormitories, a flicker of movement caught his eye and he paused, chest heaving, sucking in needed oxygen to his lungs, surveying the area in a glance.

Then he froze, and looked closer, a gasp escaping his lips as dreaded understanding of what he was seeing flickered through his mind. He stood still for a couple of heartbeats, arms dangling loosely at his sides, mouth opened slightly in disbelief, unable to compel his numbed limbs into moving, helpless to do anything about the drama unfolding below him. Then, suddenly, feeling returned with a rush and he was immediately sprinting down the grassy slope, heart thudding dully in his mouth, fear and adrenaline threatening to consume him.

"Stop!" he gasped, still running, his call almost entirely masked by the fevered shouts and sounds of struggle which got steadily louder the nearer he got to the centre of the car park. "Let him go!"

There was an awful pause as Adam skidded to a halt, stubbornly ignoring the cramp in his side, eyes fixed steadily on the two people in front of him. "Let him go!" he spat, grinding out the repeated words with such fierceness that the man in front of him looked slightly taken aback.

Then Reily smiled cruelly, the arm he had around Charlie's chest tightening, making the boy struggle weakly and gasp in protest. "Why should I?" he asked softly. "Your Captain and I need to have a little talk, so why don't you go back to the game like the good little boy you are, Banks?"

Adam stood staring at his old coach, disbelief and anger and fear and worry and confusion all battling inside of his tired mind. He didn't know what had possessed him to run down here without even considering what he was going to do about the situation first. All he had seen was John Reily forcing his best friend towards a dark green car, one large hand around his throat, the other arm locked around his body, effectively strangling any protests, and he had known immediately that he'd have to act fast. Charlie was pale and sweating, his blue eyes wide with insurpressable fear, his injured leg dragging over the tarmac uselessly and the other scrabbling to get some sort of purchase, his nails digging in to the hand about his neck, his knuckles white with tension.

"Adam –" Charlie managed to choke out before he was jerked backwards into his old Coach's chest, the painful movement effectively shutting him up.

Adam held his friend's eyes for a moment, then straightened, hands clenched into defiant fists at his side, teeth gritted in hatred of the man before him. "Let him _go_, Coach."

Reily's face darkened and he smiled. "Are you going to try and make me, Banks?" he asked, dark humour coating his words. He dragged Charlie another couple of steps, then threw him against the side of the dark green BMW, eliciting a muffled cry of pain from the boy who immediately tried to struggle out of his reach. Reily growled slightly and encircled his neck with a large hand again, keeping him pinned, the other hand groping in his pockets for what Adam very much feared would be his keys.

Adam took a step closer. "I'm not going to make you, no." He drew a deep breath and recalled the clichéd line from every bad action movie he had ever seen. "But the police will. They told us all to keep an eye on Charlie and if he ever disappeared without saying, then we were to call them immediately, even if it ended up being a waste of their time. They're already on their way."

The hand stopped its rummaging through his jean pockets, and Reily stiffened, the fingers around Charlie's neck biting into the flesh. "You're lying," he whispered harshly.

"Care to wait another few minutes to make sure?" Adam asked quietly, his eyes locked with his old coach's. "The penalty for kidnap is a lot worse than child abuse, I'd reckon. Especially if you're caught."

Reily growled, his eyes flashing dangerously, and for one awful moment Adam thought the man had seen through his lie and he was as good as dead. But Reily paused, cast him a long, critical look, then, instead of reaching out for him like he feared, turned to Charlie instead.

"Well, Conway," he hissed, forcing the boy's body viciously into the car at his back, his mouth at his ear, his breath hot against Charlie's clammy skin, "it seems like I won't be having that little chat I promised with you quite yet."

Charlie flinched and tried to turn his head, but his neck was still gripped by the iron vice of his old coach's right hand. "Get off me," he choked.

Reily ignored him, absentmindedly rubbing his calloused thumb over the boy's frantically beating jugular, a faint smile slashing his features. "Of course," he mused softly, "I reckon I have time to teach you one last little thing before I leave." He paused and drew back slightly. "A parting gift, if you like."

And, still smiling, he raised his left hand, balled it into a fist, and smashed it into Charlie's stomach, eyes gleaming at the boy's sharp expulsion of air and grunt of pain, Banks' gasp of surprise going unrecognised behind them. Slowly, he loosened his fingers and released Charlie's neck, leaving white imprinted strips on the smooth flesh, which slowly began colouring red as the blood rushed back to fill them.

He stood back and critically eyed the boy in front of him with satisfaction, hungrily taking in his haggard expression, his slightly hunched over posture, the way he was unable to keep his hands from trembling, then turned his back on him and moved to the car door, casually digging for his keys in his back pocket.

"Sooner or later, Conway, I'll be back for you," he said, matter-of-factly. He pitched a single glance over his shoulder at Adam. "And if your rich friend here insists on interrupting again, I may just take him too."

"Fuck you!" Charlie spat from behind him, his voice a little strangled by the pain encompassing him.

John Reily just laughed, pulled out his keys, opened the car door and got in, then pulled away from the two boys standing on the concrete, one hunched over and gasping, the other silent, and drove smoothly around to the exit of the car park and disappeared without a backward glance.

Charlie made a slight sound in the back of his throat, limped slowly to the nearest car, then slid down painfully next to it, resting his back against the polished metallic paintwork and shutting his eyes.

"Fuck," he groaned quietly.

Adam was immediately at his side, down on his knees, his eyebrows drawn into a worried frown. "Jesus, Charlie," he murmured quietly. "Are you okay?" He hesitantly reached out a hand to touch his best friend's shoulder.

Charlie flinched slightly at the unexpected contact but didn't pull away. Instead, he took in a single deep breath and cracked open one of his eyes, surveying the other boy hazily.

"I've been better," he stated quietly, truthfully. "If my damn ankle was only twisted before…" he winced and shifted slightly on the rough ground, swallowing hard against a gasp of pain, "I reckon it's sprained now." He paused for a moment. "My neck's on fire and my stomach feels like it's been driven into by a tank, but apart from that…" he paused, breathy, hysterical laughter on his lips, his stomach convulsing, sending shockwaves of pain through his entire body, "…apart from that," he gasped out, "it could have been a lot worse."

He took a moment to regain control of his scattered, pain-numbed thoughts, then opened both eyes and focused solely on the other boy's face, his own expression deadly serious once more.

"Thank you, Adam," he whispered. "If you hadn't come then… then Reily would have…" He trailed off, struggling for words, and Adam saw the fear he had been concealing so well shine through his damp eyes.

"Just… thank you."

Adam nodded once in understanding and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "What are friends for, Charlie?" he asked lightly, but his choice of words held an undisguised meaning.

They sat in silence for a while, both wallowing in their own take of the same thoughts, the cold gradually soaking up into their bodies from the ground beneath them.

When Adam noticed that Charlie had begun shivering, he shook himself out of his reverie and stood, stretching slightly. "Come on, we better get you back. They'll be wondering where we are and you should probably get some sort of medical attention whilst we're at it."

Charlie nodded half-heartedly, and Adam bent down to help him struggle up, the cold that had settled into his joints doing nothing for his injuries and making the process even more painful. Finally, though, he was up, and the blond boy carefully draped his Captain's arm over his shoulder, taking the majority of his weight as they began making painstakingly slow progress back towards the ice rink.

"So how did it happen?" Adam asked, breaking the silence, the question he had been worrying at in the back of his mind finally breaking to the foreground. He felt Charlie stiffen slightly in confusion and hastened to explain. "Reily, I mean. How the hell did he get to you? And where? And how did he manage to get you out by the car park without anyone noticing?"

Charlie shrugged slightly. "I don't know how he got into Eden Hall. I assumed that the gate guard would be checking everyone but…" he trailed off and shook his head. "I just don't know." He paused for a moment, trying to focus his pain befuddled mind on what had been asked of him. "He found me in the changing rooms, just after you left. Covered my mouth and dragged me out the fire exit." He frowned, and looked down at the floor moving beneath their feet, his gaze dizzy. "I tried to fight him, Banks," he swallowed painfully. "But he was just so fucking strong. Maybe if I hadn't done my ankle in…" He paused again. "And I yelled. But nobody heard me. The game was too loud."

Banks nodded and they continued onwards with their awkward, hobbling walk, starting up the slight incline which led to the ice rink. It wasn't far now.

"How did the game go anyway?" Charlie ground out, desperately trying to take his mind off the various aches in his body and mind which were only sharpened by the increase in gradient. "Did we win?"

Adam made a non-committal sound in the back of his throat. "I don't know. I left the ice five minutes after half time. I knew you hadn't come out of the changing rooms and I had this really weird feeling that something was wrong. So I went looking for you."

There was a stunned silence from the other boy at his side who was looking up at him in shock.

"You _left_ the ice? What, like, _mid-game_?" he asked, incredulously.

Adam blushed slightly under the intense scrutiny he was receiving. "It was timeout and it wasn't _that_ big a deal," he protested. He grinned slightly, "Though I think Bombay was perhaps a little put out by my sudden exit."

He paused and sobered quickly, coming to a sudden halt on the road. He turned and looked at his best friend, their blue eyes meeting and locking. "I'm guessing we lost, Charlie," he said, quietly, "but I want you to know that that's the last thing on my mind at the moment. I was just so worried when you didn't turn up at the game, and when I saw you and that bastard in the car park, and when he hit you, I just…" He sighed unhappily and shook his head.

"I know you didn't want me to apologise for what I did a couple of weeks back, so I won't. I'm just going to say now how _fucking wrong I was_. I'm not asking you to believe me, Charlie, but I just want you to know something I only really truly realised today." He took in a deep breath and smiled. "What you mean to me and what hockey means to me aren't even comparable. I couldn't live without hockey, no, but I wouldn't _want_ to live without you being my best friend." He paused, unable to look away from Charlie's blank face. "So, I mean, if you'd consider it and everything, do you think that we could, well, like, possibly, be best friends again?" he finished, nervously, looking hopefully up at the other boy.

Charlie just stared at him, struggling for a response.

Adam shut his eyes and turned his head away, his heart sinking rapidly in his chest. "Okay," he said, softly. "Don't worry about it. I'm sorry I even thought…"

But his words were cut off by the arms that were suddenly flung about his neck, gripping onto him tightly, their owner's damp cheek pressed against his, a flurry of indecipherable emotions flooding between them.

"Shut up, Banksie," Charlie whispered, choking back the delighted tears which were threatening to steal his words. "Just shut up."

__

_Fin_


End file.
